


How Much the Heart Can Hold

by mysensitiveside



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supergirl (TV 2015), Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Diana (Wonder Woman), Bisexual Female Character, Canonical Character Death, DCU Big Bang 2018, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Multi-Era, Non-Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 02:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysensitiveside/pseuds/mysensitiveside
Summary: Steve Trevor may have been the first man that Diana had ever met, but he was not her first love; nor was he her last.Or.Four times Diana’s relationships ended abruptly, and one time it didn’t.





	1. Part 1, Kasia

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Kauschi for beta-ing for me! And to thegirl20 for helping me with Peggy Carter's British-ness in part 4!
> 
> Thanks also to Luci for organizing this DCU Big Bang!
> 
> Warning that parts of this story will deal with the aftermath of several character deaths, both canonical (Steve Trevor) and non-canonical (two main characters from Supergirl). These deaths will be mentioned but not “shown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kasia is a minor character from the Wonder Woman comics.
> 
> And I'm generally playing fast and loose with DC Comics canon.

[1]

Diana whirls around in a tight circle, swinging her blade so quickly that to anyone watching, it is only a blur of shining light. Her foes swarm against her, a ceaseless wave of enemies, but Diana cuts them each down with ease.

She is Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, and _no one_ can defeat her.

The sound of applause, accompanied by a light giggle, falls down upon her ears, and Diana jerks her head upwards, brandishing her weapon—a long, sturdy stick—in the noise’s direction.

“That was impressive, Princess,” a young woman calls down from her perch up high in a nearby tree. “Although I couldn’t quite tell from this vantage point… Were those ghosts, you were fighting, or bumblebees?”

Diana grins, sheepish. “Don’t tease me, Kasia,” she pleads. She turns and tosses the stick away, and Kasia’s bright blue eyes follow its path as it arches swiftly across the field as though shot from a bow. “What are you doing up there?” Diana goes on, changing the subject.

Kasia holds up the book she’d had propped up in her lap. “Reading,” she responds.

“Oh, anything interesting?”

“I believe nearly all books are interesting,” replies Kasia.

Diana laughs, before taking a few steps forward and jumping up to grab onto a sturdy branch lower down on Kasia’s tree. “ _Nearly_ all of them?” she questions, as she swings lightly back and forth in the air, her arms hanging straight and taut.

“Mm,” Kasia agrees amiably. “Nearly all. This one concerns Urania, the Muse, and her studies of astronomy and mathematics.”

Flexing her arms just slightly, Diana launches herself into the air and settles easily at Kasia’s side.

“Are you sure that’s one of the interesting ones?” Diana asks, skepticism evident in her voice. She peers over at the pages, but it is not a book she recognizes.

Kasia nudges her elbow gently into Diana’s side, either unimpressed or unconcerned with the other woman’s sudden appearance beside her, before she lays her head down onto Diana’s shoulder. “You don’t fool me in the slightest, Diana. I know you love learning as much as I do.”

“Nearly so,” Diana rejoins with a smirk, and she can feel the upward tilt of Kasia’s responding grin against her shoulder.

They remain in a comfortable silence for some stretch of time, neither one in any hurry to move.

Eventually Diana continues, “Regardless, I think I will leave the astronomy to you and Urania. I shall stick to defending you against the bumblebees.”

Kasia laughs, the sound a sudden, bright crystal call into the air. She lifts her head and turns to look at Diana with an affectionate gaze.

“My hero,” she whispers, just before she leans in to press her lips to Diana’s cheek.

Diana feels the heat rise up her face, but she makes no attempt to hide her own answering grin.

* * *

On the eve of the first day of the Feast of Five, Diana sleeps lightly. She knows the importance of rest, especially before what is sure to be a long and glorious day, but excited nerves keep her on edge.

It is one of Diana’s favorite times of the year, the weeklong Feast of Five. First a hunt for the glory of Artemis, a harvest to honor Demeter, and finally a feast to celebrate Athena, Hestia, and Aphrodite—the five patron goddesses of the Amazons.

The biggest yearly celebration on Themyscira, and it is all set to begin at dawn.

So on this of all nights, it does not take much to wake Diana.

“No, _please_ , no!”

Diana is awake and alert at once, on her feet in an instant, with her sword drawn.

But there is no enemy in sight, no threats lurking in any shadows.

No physical ones, at least.

There is a soft whimper, and immediately, Diana is kneeling at Kasia’s side, her sword dropped to the ground and forgotten.

The furrow in Diana’s brow deepens; she feels powerless against this foe, these nightmares that oftentimes plague her friend.

“Kasia,” she murmurs, her voice a soft whisper of breath.

The only response is for Kasia to clench her bed sheets more tightly in her sleep as her head thrashes back and forth.

Diana tries once more, louder—“ _Kasia_ , wake up.”—again to no effect.

Hesitant and unsure what to do, Diana reaches her hand out, her open palm hovering uncertainly over Kasia’s head.

But when Kasia cries out again in a voice full of fear and panic, Diana immediately drops her hand to curve around Kasia’s face. Kasia seems to settle, just a little, at the feel of Diana’s touch, and Diana softly brushes some stray hair—beautiful and golden, even in this darkness—out of Kasia’s eyes.

“You are safe, Kasia. He cannot hurt you anymore,” Diana promises. “Wake up, dear friend. I will keep you safe.”

Diana doesn’t know why Kasia seems to remember more from the time before her rebirth than some of the others do, or why the memories continue to haunt Kasia’s dreams.

Perhaps it is because she’d been relatively young when she was killed.

It had been difficult for Kasia, telling Diana about her previous life; that life in the World of Man, ended so viciously when a man took violent offense at Kasia’s refusal of him. Diana understands that it is a true intimacy to share such stories. Now she can only thank the goddesses that Kasia’s soul was one of those chosen from the Underworld to be reborn as an Amazon.

After several moments of Diana’s soothing voice and touch, Kasia’s eyes flutter open. There is a wildness to her gaze until it locks onto Diana’s, and then a sense of calm settles around her, belying the torment she’d been experiencing mere seconds prior.

The urge to kiss Kasia is not a new one, but even so, the sudden rush of yearning nearly overwhelms Diana.

A quick flash of shame follows the impulse, however. Unquestionably, now is not the time for such amorous thoughts.

She moves to pull away, but Kasia does not let her—her hand sweeps forward to grasp Diana by the wrist, returning Diana’s hand to the side of Kasia’s face. Diana allows the guidance, and her thumb strokes lightly across Kasia’s cheekbone, even as Kasia maintains her grip around Diana’s wrist.

“Stay with me?” Kasia asks quietly, her first words since waking.

There is no hesitation before Diana replies. “Of course,” she says. After a moment, she repeats her words from earlier, declaring, “I will keep you safe, Kasia.”

“Yes, I know,” replies Kasia, as though there was no question of it at all. She rolls over onto her side, tugging Diana along behind her. Diana moves with her, climbing quietly into Kasia’s bed alongside her. She wraps her arms around Kasia, settling into the position with an ease born of familiarity. This is not the first time they have slept like this, the arrangement becoming increasingly common once they began sharing a room within the large sleeping quarters.

It doesn’t take long for Kasia to fall back into sleep, but Diana stays awake. She waits to see if Kasia’s nightmare will return, but the sound of Kasia’s even breathing remains a soothing balm to counter Diana’s disquiet.

Eventually, Diana can no longer stop her eyes from drooping closed. She resettles herself, snuggling more deeply into Kasia’s warmth. Without overthinking it, she lightly brushes her lips against the back of Kasia’s neck, before sinking softly into sleep.

* * *

There is no mistaking the hush of silence that suddenly falls across the mess hall upon Diana’s entrance.

Diana quirks her head, confused at the reaction. Her eyes sweep across the others—upon first glance, she takes in Epione, Mala, Io, Niobe, Euboea…—and they all seem to look over at her, before their gazes dart away when Diana meets their eyes. It’s then that Diana spots Kasia at a separate table, and with a mental shrug, she moves to go sit across from her.

“What are they doing?” Diana inquires as she takes her seat.

Kasia looks up from a book, only then noticing Diana’s presence. “Hm? Oh, hello, Diana. What are who doing?”

Diana inclines her head towards Epione and the others before reaching to grab a grape off of Kasia’s plate.

“Ah,” Kasia says with a smirk, when she sees those of whom Diana was speaking, “I believe they are trying to work up the nerve to ask for your help.”

Puzzled, Diana can only muster out a “…What?”

“Artemis, Penthiselea, and their group, they’ve challenged the new trainees,” explains Kasia. “It’s some sort of tradition, as I understand it, one where the new trainees never win. I heard they’re on the last stage, which involves stealing some of the brewmaster’s latest batch.”

Diana argues, “But no one knows where Althea keeps her stash.”

“Precisely,” Kasia agrees with a nod of her head.

Diana can’t help but feel offended; she asks, “And why haven’t I been told about any of this before? I have been training right alongside them, have I not?”

Kasia’s smile is an indulgent one. “Yes, of course, but you’re not exactly the same as any other trainee, now are you?”

Diana opens her mouth to protest, but Kasia cuts her off.

“Something about having the Queen for your mother and the General as your aunt, perhaps?”

Kasia’s smile only widens when Diana settles into a frown, unable to counter Kasia’s point. “Don’t worry, Princess,” Kasia goes on, and she reaches out to nudge a bent knuckle against the corner of Diana’s downturned mouth. “I’m sure they’re only a _little_ intimidated by you.”

“Hm,” is all Diana says, unsure how she feels about that.

After stealing another grape from Kasia’s plate—Kasia swats at Diana’s hand in protest, but makes no real attempt to stop her—Diana then stands up, decisive, and walks over to the other table.

“So,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What’s this I hear about a challenge?”

The others all look around at each other and grin.

It is a mere two days later when Kasia happens to walk by as Diana and her newfound friends are celebrating their success.

Diana is only a little bit tipsy.

“Kasia!” she calls out in excitement. “Come, rejoice with us!” The others, grateful to Kasia for bringing Diana into the loop, raise a cheer as well. Diana leans back to wave Kasia over to the campfire, nearly losing her balance off the back of the log she’d been sitting on.

Okay, Diana may be slightly more than tipsy; Althea’s no-longer-so-secret stash is _superb_.

Kasia ambles over with a soft, amused smile on her face. Taking a seat next to Diana, she asks, “So I take it that everything worked out, then? Congratulations to you all.”

“Diana,” Niobe urges, as she passes a mug over to the newcomer, “tell Kasia how you managed it.”

Diana shrugs, though her smile is one of pride. “All the rest of you did most of the work,” she says. “I merely assisted with the final retrieval.”

“Don’t downplay the part you played,” adds Epione, nudging Diana in the side from her place to Diana’s left. “We couldn’t have done it without you, Princess.”

Diana smiles at the playful touch. Before this night, these women had been her comrades in arms, true enough. But now Diana feels that they are truly friends; sisters, even, in a way they had not been before.

“Yes, Diana, tell Kasia of your brave feats of strength!” Mala teases with a knowing tone that Diana does not quite understand.

“Truly, there was no real bravery involved,” Diana insists. She takes another sip of her drink before turning to Kasia to explain, “The ale was tucked away in a narrow fissure halfway up one of the cliffs along the beach. Once I made it inside the opening, there was a whole cavern of space, but from the outside, the spot appeared highly unremarkable.”

Euboea, sitting on the opposite side of their campfire, shakes her head wryly. “Diana,” she chides. “When you are trying to impress a woman, you need to emphasize the difficulty—the _danger!_ —of what you have done!” She gesticulates with her hands, and beer sloshes out of her mug, as she continues, “Explain how high the cavern was from the ground! How treacherous the climb! How you placed yourself at the mercy of the gods without fear!”

Diana can only cock her head in puzzlement. “Impress Kasia?” she queries. “Why do I need to impress Kasia? She is already my friend.”

The others burst into laughter, and though it is clearly not meant unkindly, it leaves Diana with nothing but an increasing level of bemusement.

“I tried, Kasia, I tried,” Euboea says with a last chuckle and a wink. “But our dear Princess remains without guile.”

Her brow furrowed, Diana turns again to look at Kasia, but Kasia’s expression, while both kind and indulgent, and beautiful as ever, affords no explanation.

“Worry not,” she says, reaching out to gently pat an open palm against Diana’s cheek. “I assure you that I am _thoroughly_ impressed.”

Between the heat of the fire, the alcohol, and the praise, Diana cannot help but blush, although she hopes it is not overly visible in the deepening dusk. She still doesn’t understand what she is missing, but as the others raise up a cheer for her, and as Kasia meets her eyes with open affection, she decides that it doesn’t matter.

* * *

There is something relaxing about the repetitive motion involved in shooting a bow and arrow.

Draw the arrow, bring it to her bow, pull the string back, find her target, and release; draw the next arrow, bring it to her bow, pull the string back, find her target, and release; draw the next arrow…

There’s an ease to it, a fluidity of motion that Diana finds calming. Antiope has set up targets for her in difficult, long-range locations, but Diana has yet to miss a single one.

Kasia lies in the grass beside her, lounging back on her elbows in a relaxed pose. Her eyes sometimes follow the path of each arrow, but more often than not, she simply watches Diana.

“You know,” she begins conversationally, as Diana draws her next arrow, “I have been wondering how much longer you plan on being a coward.”

Diana scoffs, but there is no hitch in her movement as she replies, “You seem to have spent too much time in the sun, dear friend; I am no such thing.” Her arrow flies true, finding the target that lies at the top of a far-off cliff, marked by a splash of yellow dye near the base of a tree.

“No?” Kasia counters. “Then when, _dear friend_ , are you finally going to kiss me?”

At the final two words, uttered with such nonchalance, Diana cannot help but shift her torso sharply towards Kasia, releasing the bowstring when it is headed in entirely the wrong direction.

“What?” Diana asks in breathless surprise.

This time, Kasia’s gaze does follow the flight of Diana’s arrow, as it soars over to where four other Amazons are training in hand-to-hand combat. They are fortunate that Diana’s arrow does not strike any of them, but as it lodges itself into the earth between them, they all stare at it in confusion for a beat, before turning as one to shout their displeasure.

“Sorry!” Diana calls out, waving an arm in appeasement. “It was an accident, sorry!”

Kasia chuckles, drawing Diana’s attention back to her.

“I— When will I— _What_?” Diana stammers out. Later, Kasia will tell her that she had never seen Diana so flustered; that there was something utterly endearing in the display.

Kasia grins, but does not respond verbally. Instead, she lifts one arm up into the air, a clear request for Diana to pull her to her feet.

Diana does so, and the two of them end up standing face to face.

“Well?” Kasia challenges.

Her heart beating uncomfortably quickly, Diana searches Kasia’s face, but she finds nothing but sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. Her eyes dart inescapably down to Kasia’s lips and remain there, and for a moment, she dares not even breathe.

Diana laughs, then—all this time that she has spent thinking about kissing Kasia, dreaming of kissing Kasia, but she has swallowed her feelings down, and tried hard to simply be a good friend, and… And it turns out that she has been a complete fool.

Kasia cracks a hesitant smile, but she seems suddenly unsure of herself and takes a step backward.

Diana steps forward, keeping close, and then before Kasia can say anything else, she drops her bow and lifts her hand to the back of Kasia’s neck. She tugs only lightly, but Kasia nearly falls into her arms, and Diana pauses for but a split-second, enough to catch Kasia’s sharp inhale of breath, before she brings their lips together.

In spite of what has prompted this moment, it is still nearly a surprise when Kasia kisses her back.

Suddenly, Diana cannot stop smiling, even as it prevents her from deepening the kiss. She settles instead for pressing their lips together over and over again, each kiss short, and firm, and sweet.

When they pull back just slightly, Kasia is looking at Diana like she is the most precious thing. She keeps one hand gripping Diana’s elbow and reaches up with the other to stroke her thumb lightly across Diana’s lower lip, seeming to marvel in the moment.

Her expression turns impish, however, as she tells Diana, “Well, took you long enough.”

Diana laughs again, clear and bright and happy, before she leans back in, Kasia’s hand now cupping her jaw as Diana brings their mouths back together.

Eager as she is, Diana presses forward perhaps harder than she should, and Kasia loses her balance. She falls back into the grass with a noise of surprise, and forward momentum takes Diana tumbling down with her. Their easy laughter is cut off when, lying halfway on top of Kasia, Diana kisses her once more, this time slow and deep.

* * *

“What do you see, when you look at the stars?”

Kasia is looking through her telescope, and she doesn’t shift her gaze at Diana’s question. Nor does she answer right away, but Diana knows that it doesn’t mean she is being ignored. She knows Kasia will give an answer, once she has one.

It doesn’t take long.

“I see the flow of time. I see how, from one night to the next, the sky seems to always be the same, but if you were to stop looking, the stars all would have moved by the time you looked up again.” Kasia’s voice is soft and reverential, as she continues, “I see the birth of light. I see life. I see the way towards home.”

Something in Kasia’s tone makes Diana ache to touch her. She reaches out and, not wanting to disturb Kasia’s observations, she merely brushes her fingertips in a light touch down Kasia’s bare arm. Kasia shivers, the hairs on her arm now standing on end.

Kasia finishes making some note and then removes the long lens from her eye. She turns and blinks rapidly at the change in perspective, from the celestial bodies above to the dark world on the ground. Some of Diana’s bewilderment must show itself on her face—Diana has tried before to see what Kasia sees, to no great success—for Kasia laughs at the look of her.

“That is not quite what you meant, I take it?” Kasia asks.

Diana smiles and shrugs. “Not quite,” she admits, but she doesn’t fully know what it even is that she’d meant.

Kasia’s studies take her all over the island each night, and, when she can, Diana has taken to coming along as well. She doesn’t even pretend to truly understand what it is that Kasia actually does, as they walk to some new observation point for Kasia to look up at the sky and take some sort of measurements.

Kasia tries again. Her gaze remains on Diana’s face, a soft smile pulling at her lips, as she says, “I see my place in this world. I see a mystery I long to understand but know I never will. Not fully. I see a world apart. I see beauty. I see _you_.”

And this time, something clicks in Diana’s mind. She gets it, somehow, and she inhales a quick gasp of comprehension.

Diana whispers, “You see what I see, when I look out at the ocean.”

At that, Kasia’s face falls, though Diana doesn’t understand why. It is only a moment, a moment that Diana wouldn’t have even caught, had she not been staring into Kasia’s eyes, before Kasia blinks and the look of sadness is gone.

“One girl looking up, and another looking out,” Kasia says. Her tone is light, teasing. “It’s no small wonder that we ever see each other at all.”

Diana grins in response. “I see you now,” she says, her voice soft and low, and her eyes sweep unsubtly up and down Kasia’s body. She reaches out and grabs hold of Kasia’s hand, the one not still holding her telescope, tangling their fingers together.

But Kasia isn’t ready to stop teasing yet, and she adds, “No, I understand, now. You only look to me because it’s too dark to see the water.” Even as Kasia says it, Diana can hear the laughter only just barely held in check.

Still, Diana’s tone is sincere when she says, “Your stars give me enough light. I can see the ocean just fine, but I’d rather look at you.”

“Charmer,” Kasia laughs.

But without another word, Kasia tugs Diana closer, wrapping her free arm around Diana’s shoulders and pulling her down into a kiss.

Later, when they’re walking back to the city, Kasia continues the conversation, as though they’d never stopped.

“At least I know that I cannot touch the stars,” she says, and it takes Diana a minute to grasp what she’s talking about. “Will you disappear, one of these days, sailing off on some never-ending search to find whatever may lie on the other side of the sea?”

Diana’s first instinct is to laugh the question off. But, even as sleepy as she is, she hears enough in Kasia’s tone to take the inquiry seriously.

She takes a moment to think of how to respond, before she replies, “Why would I ever leave? All that I could possibly want is already here.”

* * *

Diana wakes to the feel of lips pressing a gentle line across her collarbone.

Even as her eyes remain closed, she smiles and raises a hand to scratch lazily at the back of Kasia’s head. Kasia leans into the touch, uttering a soft sound, something between a hum and a purr, and then arches her face upwards so she can bring her lips to Diana’s.

“Oh good,” Kasia murmurs, “you’re finally awake.”

Diana chuckles, the sound coming out throaty and deep with sleep. “Have I kept you waiting long?” she asks. “I must apologize.”

Kasia hums in agreement as she ducks her head so that her lips may chart a course down Diana’s neck. “Yes,” she says, in between kisses. “I have been ever so patient. I woke up, finished reading my book, and yet you _still_ continued to doze on. So then I decided to wake you.”

“I see,” Diana says. Her hand has fallen to Kasia’s back, trailing slowly up and down along her lover’s spine. Kasia’s kisses have Diana buzzing in restive energy, now, and her eyes flutter open so that she can reach for Kasia’s chin, urging her back upwards so she can kiss her with firm intent, even as she remains prone on her back.

Kasia nearly melts into her touch, and Diana finds herself waking up more and more with each passing second. It isn’t long before she can no longer resist flipping their positions. With Kasia settled happily beneath her, Diana kisses her way along Kasia’s jaw, nudging her nose against that spot on Kasia’s neck, just below the edge of her jawline, where her pulse thunders.

Her fingers reach for the hem of Kasia’s tunic and pull it easily up and over Kasia’s head, leaving her torso bare. Then Diana continues to move southward, down Kasia’s smooth, lithe, body, leaving the blonde squirming in eager anticipation.

“By the way,” Diana murmurs, a teasing grin beginning to stray across her face. “The Queen has asked me why you haven’t come to dine with us in a while.”

Kasia freezes, her hand halfway into gripping the hair at the back of Diana’s head.

“…Are you really talking to me about your _mother_ right now?” Kasia queries, her voice breathless.

Diana remains where she is, pressing a kiss against Kasia’s sternum, but lifts her eyes to meet Kasia’s incredulous gaze.

“Well,” Diana says, “I thought I would mention it, while I have your attention.”

Huffing out a laugh, Kasia lets her head drop back onto the pillow and sinks her fingers further into Diana’s dark tresses as she replies, “Well then you can tell Hippolyta that I have become somewhat disinclined to dine with her since I began defiling her daughter.”

In response, Diana nips lightly at the underside of Kasia’s breast.

Kasia continues, adding, “Don’t you dare _actually_ tell her that. Or Antiope. Sweet goddesses, I’m going to”—Here, Kasia pauses to let out a soft moan as Diana’s lips and hands continue to trail down her body—“going to get myself expelled from this island, I just know it.”

Diana chuckles, but says nothing in return.

After a moment, Kasia speaks again. “Can we please be done talking about your family, now?”

“Yes,” is all Diana needs to say before she slips her hand below Kasia’s waistline to sink her fingers where Kasia wants them, eliciting a groan of pleasure from them both.

Neither one of them has anything else to say—nothing intelligible, at least—for quite some time.

* * *

Diana is speaking with Artemis, discussing a possible change to their training regimen, when Kasia bursts into the room.

Before anyone can ask what she is doing, Kasia exclaims, looking directly at Diana, “I _love_ you. You know that, don’t you?”

For a long moment, Diana can only stare back at Kasia in bewilderment. She glances over at Artemis, but her expression of wide-eyed surprise offers Diana no assistance in understanding what is going on.

“I…” Diana clears her throat and looks back at Kasia, who remains standing in the doorway, posture straight and stiff. “Yes?” Diana responds. Of course she knows that Kasia loves her.

“Good,” Kasia says. She nods once, sharply, and then turns and strides back out of the room.

This does nothing to clear up Diana’s confusion. There’s a beat of complete silence at Kasia’s retreat, before Euboea, who had been sitting nearby, conversing with Niobe, bursts into laughter. Diana looks over at them, and Niobe too has a knowing smile on her face, but she says nothing.

Then Diana hears a soft chuckle beside her, drawing her attention back to Artemis.

“I think you’d better go on after her, Princess,” Artemis suggests with a smirk.

With a confused nod, Diana turns to follow in Kasia’s wake. She speeds up to a jog once she’s left the room, hurrying to try to locate where Kasia has gone.

She finds her before too long, standing on her own at the edge of the city, looking out at the ocean.

“What was that all about?” Diana demands once she’s reached Kasia’s side.

Kasia, her arms crossed tightly over her body, shifts her head to look briefly at Diana, before she turns away again.

When Kasia speaks, Diana has to lean forward to hear her words, before the wind carries them away and over the cliff.

“We have been together for… quite some time, now,” Kasia begins. “That is, I have been thinking of us as ‘together’ for some time now, and I have been waiting for you to say it. And things have been wonderful with you, don’t misunderstand me, but I have been waiting, and waiting. And then I thought maybe you were waiting for me. So.” Kasia shrugs. “So I came to you and said it. And now whatever happens next is up to you.”

Diana almost asks what “it” is, but, as if reading Diana’s mind, Kasia adds, “And I swear, Diana, if you need to ask me what I’m talking about, then I don’t care that you’re the Queen’s daughter and the strongest Amazon on this island, I may have to hit you.”

Diana quickly shuts her mouth. She doesn’t doubt that Kasia means it.

And it is true—when Diana takes a moment to think it all through, she does understand. At least, she _partly_ understands.

“But… But surely I have already said it before…” Diana pauses, frowning. “Haven’t I?”

Kasia twists around so quickly to glare at Diana that it takes Diana by surprise.

“ _No,_ Diana,” Kasia intones, her hands dropping into tight fists at her side. “You have _not_.”

With that, Kasia moves to walk away along the escarpment, but Diana reacts in time to reach out and grab hold of Kasia’s wrist, drawing her back.

Diana pulls Kasia in close. She keeps a loose hold around Kasia’s wrist and reaches up with her other hand, first to Kasia’s shoulder, and then her face, gently guiding Kasia into looking at her.

When their eyes meet, Diana smiles. “I _love_ you, Kasia of Themyscira,” she says, earnest and open. “I love you with all of my heart, and I am so sorry for making you doubt me.”

All the tense rigidity seems to seep out of Kasia in relief, and she gazes up at Diana with a look of pure wonder in her eyes.

Then she rears back and punches Diana in the shoulder.

It’s not enough to hurt, and nor, Diana is sure, was it meant to.

Still, Diana opens her mouth to protest, if only in jest, before Kasia cuts her off with a scoff and says, “Honestly, you thought you had said it before?” Her incredulity evident, she continues, even as she remains encircled within Diana’s arms, “How could you possibly think that you had said it before? Was it such a small thing to you, that you didn’t even realize that we’d never said out loud that we love each other?”

Diana smiles and shakes her head. “I know I’ve thought it often enough. My love for you is an integral part of me, and has been for what feels like a long time, so it simply seemed as though I must have said it,” she says.

“Oh, you charmer,” Kasia replies with a laugh. “I love you, you charmer.”

Diana’s grin widens, and she leans in for a kiss. But before their mouths can touch, Kasia whispers, her breath falling softly onto Diana’s lips, “Tell me again.”

“I love you, Kasia,” Diana responds with ease, gazing deep into Kasia’s eyes.

Kasia’s smile could rival the sun, and Diana feels compelled to kiss her. Her kiss is slow, deep, and unhurried, as she tries to pour all of her emotions, her passion, into their embrace. Both of Diana’s hands drop to sit lightly on either side of Kasia’s waist, but her grip tightens when Kasia coaxes Diana’s mouth open with her tongue. Kasia’s palm comes to rest against Diana’s cheek, her other fingers scratching gently at the back of Diana’s neck. Diana nearly moans out loud, but manages to keep it in check.

They only pull apart when the sound of light giggles reaches them from somewhere further up the hill, away from the cliff. Diana doesn’t bother looking to see whom it is that has spotted them.

“I love you,” Diana says again, softly. “Let me take you home and show you just how much.”

Kasia swallows visibly and stares up at Diana with a look of palpable desire in her eyes.

She hesitates, looking slightly embarrassed. “I interrupted a meeting of yours,” she seems to have only just remembered. “With Artemis.”

“Artemis can wait,” Diana insists. An impatience is growing within her, and at Kasia’s nod, Diana immediately turns to begin walking away towards their shared room, pulling Kasia along behind her.

It’s after several long strides that Diana realizes that she is heading in the wrong direction. Without a word, she heads back the opposite way, with Kasia’s happy laughter echoing after.

* * *

It is nearly five years later when Steve Trevor’s airplane crashes into the ocean off the coast of Themyscira, forever altering the course of Diana’s life.

* * *

It is late afternoon, after her visit with Steve Trevor at the healing pools, when Diana finds Kasia on the beach. There is no remaining sign of the earlier battle with the German soldiers, and Kasia now stands still, staring out at the ocean.

She approaches quietly, and though she suspects that Kasia must sense her presence, Kasia doesn’t react at all as Diana comes up beside her.

Neither one says anything for a minute, before Diana speaks. “I thought you were the girl who looks up,” she says, her tone light. “But now you forego the sky, in favor of the sea?”

Kasia releases a sound—something between a laugh and a scoff, but wetter, and pained.

It is a long moment before Kasia replies, “I can see the sky’s reflection well enough.” Her voice comes out no louder than a strained whisper. “And if looking up has brought me here, then I must have been doing something very wrong.”

Something in Kasia’s bitter-sounding words strikes a nerve. “Do you mean that?” Diana demands. “Has this all been a _mistake_ , for you?” She moves to place herself between Kasia and the water, forcing Kasia to meet her eyes.

Kasia does not shy away from Diana’s gaze, and as their eyes connect, Diana immediately forgets her own burgeoning hurt.

The pain in Kasia’s eyes is so profound, it makes Diana take an instinctive step backward.

Still, Kasia continues to stare at Diana, her eyes red-rimmed and raw, defiant.

“Are you not leaving me, then?”

At Kasia’s question, Diana is the one to break their eye contact, and she drags her gaze down to the sand between them.

“I…” she begins, after a long pause. “My mother has forbidden me to act.”

“Yes. And— And if—” Kasia tries to speak, but she has to stop as her voice catches and breaks.

When nothing more is said, Diana hazards a glance back up at Kasia. Her lover stands with her eyes squeezed shut, her right hand nearly clawing at her throat, as though it is too tight for any words to escape.

Diana has never felt more like a coward than she does when she tears her gaze away to look back at the sand.

Eventually, Kasia does speak again, though her voice now is even quieter and rougher than before. Diana struggles to even hear her above the sound of the ocean’s waves.

“And if…” Kasia begins again. “If I thought the Queen’s ruling would stop you, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Diana doesn’t know what to say to that. She wishes so badly for Kasia to understand—understand this burning sense of duty inside her, this need to _do_ something, this calling of what feels like her destiny—but she suspects that Kasia does understand her, more than anyone else.

Even so, she has to try to explain. Kasia deserves so much more; but she deserves that, at least.

“He says that millions have been killed,” she says, her voice soft but urgent. “That millions more are dying. Men, women, _children_. Kasia, how can I—” She takes a step forward, one hand outstretched and entreating, but Kasia immediately steps backwards, wrapping her arms around her body as though to shield herself. Diana stops in her tracks; even when they have fought in the past, Kasia has never before drawn away from her.

All of the urgency seems to slide away, but Diana finishes, letting her arm drop to her side. “How can I stand by and do nothing? This can only mean that Ares has returned, and it is our sacred duty to stop him.”

“‘Our’ duty,” Kasia repeats. “Not yours alone. Why are _you_ the one who has to go?”

Diana doesn’t say anything at first. But the words build up inside her, until she can no longer hold them in.

“You could come with me?” Diana whispers.

Kasia seems to curl in on herself.

“I am no warrior, Diana,” Kasia says after a stretch of silence, shaking her head. “Knowledge of the stars will not help you in any fight against the God of War. I would only be in your way, and I— I can’t go back there. I simply can’t.”

Diana closes her eyes and thinks back on all of the nights when Kasia’s sleep was disturbed by nightmares; nightmares of Man’s World. She nods.

She doesn’t know what else to say. But she opens her eyes to find Kasia staring at her. Kasia still has her arms wrapped around her torso, holding herself in, but there’s steel in her spine.

Diana takes time to drink in the sight of her. The pain in Kasia’s eyes is a dagger to Diana’s heart, but her beauty still takes Diana’s breath away. And the pain in Diana’s heart is worth it, for being able to watch Kasia while she still can.

Can she really do this? Not for the first time, Diana isn’t sure. Can she do what she knows she must, when it means leaving Kasia, leaving Themyscira, forever?

Silent tears start to fall steadily down Kasia’s face, but when Diana moves towards her, aching to comfort her, Kasia rapidly shakes her head and steps backwards again. “Don’t, please, I— ” Kasia implores. “I _can’t_. I can’t hold myself together if you touch me.”

She wipes messily at her face, and Diana needs to close her eyes in order to stop herself from stepping forward and simply pulling Kasia into her arms, regardless of Kasia’s own wishes.

It feels like a long time before either of them speaks again. Diana, _almost_ lulled into a sense of calm by the crashing and receding sound of the sea, only opens her eyes again when Kasia eventually asks, her voice hard and tight, “Are you leaving right now? Today?”

Within this stretch of silence, Kasia seems to have moved from grief to anger.

Diana shakes her head. With guilt, she admits, “Possibly tonight; after midnight.”

Kasia’s hands tighten into fists at this news, and her jaw visibly clenches. A flash of a sneer crosses her face as she practically spits out, “And to think, I once found your sense of honor _charming_.”

“Kasia, please,” Diana entreats, even as she doesn’t know what she is asking.

“I need time to think,” Kasia interrupts. “Alone. Do not seek me out. I’ll come find you if— when I’m able to look at you without wanting to strike you.”

With that, Kasia turns on her heel and walks away.

At first, Diana does not know what to do.

After remaining on the beach on her own for some time, she heads to the infirmary to check in on those who were wounded in the battle.

She sits quietly by Antiope’s side for a long time. The general has lost _so_ much blood… She remains unconscious, but Menalippe says they are hopeful that she will survive.

“I could really use your counsel, Aunt,” Diana whispers, as she holds one of Antiope’s hands in both of her own.

But Antiope does not wake.

After an early dinner, Diana goes to her living quarters, hoping that Kasia will know to find her there. Hours later, Kasia still has not returned, and Diana paces back and forth across their room. Eventually, after the sun has set, Diana goes to lie in bed, but she does not sleep.

Her thoughts whirl, a chaotic mix of love and anguish. She knows she cannot stay here; not after what the man said about the war, humanity tearing itself apart. But she knows equally well that it will break her heart.

It startles her, when a figure suddenly appears in the doorway.

“Kasia—” Diana begins to sit up, as Kasia strides silently across the room. She pushes Diana back and crawls into bed beside her.

“Just hold me,” Kasia murmurs.

Without hesitation, Diana envelops Kasia in a tight embrace. She kisses the top of Kasia’s head, nuzzled in beneath her jaw.

“I love you,” Diana whispers into Kasia’s soft hair. “I am so sorry.”

The only response is the feel of wet tears slipping down Kasia’s nose and falling to Diana’s chest.

They remain like that, legs entwined and clinging to each other, as they both drift off into sleep.

It is still dark when Kasia wakes Diana with a gentle nudge.

“It will be light soon,” Kasia says quietly, and it is explanation enough. If Diana is to leave, it should be now.

Still, Diana makes no move to get up right away.

Kasia is leaning up on an elbow so that she can look at Diana, and Diana reaches to stroke her fingers along the side of Kasia’s face.

“Could I have gotten this all wrong, Kasia?” she asks. “Maybe I don’t need to go?” She knows it is unfair of her to ask this of Kasia, but she cannot help it.

Kasia’s smile is aching and sad.

“I think we both know that you must,” she says. “You are the one best suited amongst us to take on this arduous task. And that inner drive you have to always help those in need is part of what I love about you.”

Kasia leans down, then, and brings her lips to Diana’s.

The kiss isn’t frantic, but there’s an urgency to it. A desperate plea for something to hold on to.

Kasia pulls back just slightly and whispers fervently, “You need to make sure this is worth it, Diana.” Her breath comes out in heated puffs against Diana’s lips. “Don’t waste time moping over me. Do whatever you must to defeat Ares and stop that war. Make sure our sacrifice is _worth_ it. _Promise_ me that.”

“I swear it.” Diana’s vow is quiet and solemn, but sincere.

Kasia nods once, satisfied, and then kisses Diana again. She cups Diana’s jaw in her hand, pressing their lips together firmly, before she moves to Diana’s side and pushes against her.

“Now go, my love,” Kasia says. “Go, before I think of a way to anchor you here.”

Reluctantly, Diana moves with Kasia’s push. She gets to her feet as Kasia moves to sit at the edge of the bed. Somehow, in the tangle of movement, they end up holding hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Diana says again. “I love you.”

“And I love you, but now you must go.”

When Diana makes no immediate move, Kasia is the one to let go of Diana’s hand, and she again pushes at Diana’s side. “ _Go_ , Diana,” she urges.

Diana takes a deep breath and moves to the doorway. She looks back, once, to see Kasia lying back in their bed, one arm flung over her eyes to block out the sight of Diana leaving.

She hurries back one last time, kisses Kasia on the forehead, and then leaves.

Outside the living quarters, she takes in another deep breath.

Now, she’s just in need of a sword. A God Killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's strongly implied in the Wonder Woman movie that Antiope died... But I decided otherwise, so there.


	2. Part 2, Steve

[2]

Men are stupid.

This is what Diana has learned, so far, from her brief amount of time in their world.

They are stupid, and backwards, and condescending.

Diana hopes that she hasn’t made the biggest mistake of her life.

* * *

Once some of the initial novelty wears off, Diana isn’t sure that she actually likes Steve Trevor all that much.

Diana—you can’t do that; Diana—wear this; Diana—put your sword away.

Diana—don’t be yourself.

She doesn’t understand him. Not really. And nor does he understand her, she is quite certain of that.

Still.

There is something about him that draws Diana to him. And he did keep his word, at least, after much prodding. He is taking her to Ares.

And as long as she keeps her focus on her mission—as long as she doesn’t think too much about home—she will be fine.

She is Princess Diana of Themyscira, she has the God Killer in her possession, and she will do the Amazons proud and end this war. There are no other options.

Diana watches the countryside pass outside the window of the train; the considerable speed of this mode of transport, faster than any horse, had taken some getting used to, but now she enjoys the rolling cadence of their passage. And she is happy to put the city of London behind her, though she will miss Etta. Diana quite liked Etta.

Steve shifts in his sleep, attracting Diana’s attention. He’d been sleeping a deep, exhausted sleep for a good portion of their ride so far, but now he seems troubled.

Sameer sleeps soundly beside him, and Charlie is off wandering somewhere along the train, but Steve remains asleep, even as his brow furrows and his whole body grows tense and stiff. He begins to murmur something unintelligible, but the overall picture is a clear one.

But Diana stays frozen in her seat, her face stricken.

Her first instinct, always, is to help. But with this… This, of all things…

Diana looks at Steve, caught in some nightmare, and all she can see is a girl with long golden hair; a girl who dreams of horrible things but who still smiles as bright as the sun; a girl whose demons were always soothed by Diana’s warm touch.

A girl Diana left behind.

When Diana finally reaches out and manages to shake Steve awake, it feels like one of the most difficult things she’s ever had to do.

* * *

“Tell me more about Themy… About your island,” Steve asks her, the night after they meet up with Napi, the Chief.

“Themyscira,” Diana reminds him.

They sit side by side on a log, with their backs to the fire, as the others sleep nearby. When Diana had volunteered to take a turn at keeping watch, Steve had insisted on staying up with her. He has, multiple times now, seen that she is more than capable of taking care of herself—not to mention the rest of them as well—but still he persists. Something about it being “the gentlemanly thing to do,” he’d said. She does not fully understand the issue, but she allows him his odd customs.

He sounds out the word after her, “Them-y-scira,” as though it matters to him to get it right.

She simply looks at him for a long moment. “What do you want to know?” she finally asks.

“I don’t know.” He offers a small shrug. “Anything. Do you miss it?”

Diana bristles at the question. Instead of answering directly, she turns the question back on him. “Do you miss _your_ home?”

Steve nods, understanding. “Always,” he says quietly.

Diana inclines her head in agreement, though she is not sure if he even sees her, in the dark.

She tries to think of what else to say, but honestly feels at a loss. She’s not sure that she’s ready to talk about Themyscira, and all that she’s left behind; the wounds are still too fresh. Even just thinking about it, Diana feels a wave of emotion flood her chest.

Steve seems to sense this, and he doesn’t press her.

“I’m from a place called Oklahoma,” Steve says after a long beat. “Ever heard of it?”

Diana shakes her head, and he smiles, adding, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t have. Enid, Oklahoma. It’s a great town. Built up by wheat grown on the farms, and oil dug up from the land. I think you might like it there. It’s not like London, and mostly in good ways. It’s a lot smaller, of course, but the air is cleaner. I used to think it was nothing special, but that was before I had much of anything to compare it to. And it’s no grand place; I’ll admit that. But it’s home, you know? So it’ll always be special, in a way I didn’t really appreciate ‘til after I’d left. I hadn’t really had a chance to travel around before I was sent over to fight with the Brits. Oh, except that one time, when my dad took me to see a St. Louis Cardinals game. Hey, you ever heard of baseball?”

It takes Diana a second to realize that Steve has paused his stream of words to ask her a question. He seems not to require an answer from her, however, as he continues on before she can say anything.

“Nah, of course you haven’t. Before you met me, you hadn’t even heard of _men_!”

He chuckles softly to himself, and Diana thinks to protest this inaccurate statement, but decides to let it go.

“So anyway, baseball,” Steve goes on. “It’s this great sport—people hit a ball with a big stick and then run around in circles.” He stops to ponder his own statement for a moment, canting his head to the side, and then shrugs. “Honestly, it doesn’t sound all that great when I put it like that, but you’ll just have to take my word for it. And my dad flies a plane, you see—so did my mom, actually—so one year, it was about ten years ago, I think, it was my birthday, and my dad decides to give me a real thrill, and so he flies me to St. Louis in his plane for a game. I’d read about the team in the paper every day, but had never been to a live game before. The Cards were god-awful that year—they’re pretty awful almost every year, to be perfectly honest with you—but they’re my favorite team, the closest we’ve got to a hometown team, and so my dad flew me out there.

“They were playing Brooklyn, who weren’t so great either that year, I gotta say, but they were decent, and it was Ed Karger, the southpaw, pitching against George Bell. I’ll never forget it. And they won! Gosh, what a game. That was a real nice birthday. I can still picture it all, too. The greenest grass I’d ever seen, before your place. And Koney! That’s Ed Konetchy, he was their rookie first baseman, and I’d decided that year that he was my new favorite player. I’d made a good pick, too, ‘cause he turned into probably the best guy on the team, until Huggins _traded_ him to Pittsburgh. Koney’s another above-average male, I got no shame in telling you that.”

Steve continues talking; it was some time ago that Diana was last able to fully understand what it is that he is even talking about, but somehow, that doesn’t matter. He moves on to talking about his father, and just listening to the sound of Steve’s voice is soothing.

She tilts her head to look over at him, considering him. He catches her eye and winks at her, giving her a kind and gentle smile, even as he goes on talking.

And for the first time, Diana thinks that maybe Steve does understand her, in some way. Because as she lets Steve’s words wash over her, as he tells her all about his home and the things he loves, that tight ball of emotion lodged in her throat starts to loosen.

She cannot speak of her own home, yet. But someday, maybe she will.

* * *

_“This is not what we came here to do.”_

_“No. But it’s what I’m going to do.”_

It is not a move that Diana takes lightly, thrusting herself directly into the war. Steve has been acting as though she is a child to be corralled, but she _has_ thought this through.

For while it may well be true, as they all keep telling her, that she cannot save everyone, that will not stop her from trying to save as many as she can.

Even now, as she stands in the middle of what they’d called No Man’s Land, her feet planted hard into the ground and taking on an endless stream of firepower against her shield, Diana knows that this was the right decision. She has not yet decided her precise next move, but she knows that this is exactly where she is meant to be in this moment—standing here in her Amazonian armor, fighting for what is right.

Sensing movement out of the corner of her eye, Diana glances over to her right and is surprised to see Steve and Charlie, taking cover and firing back at the Germans. Then she looks over to her left, and she sees Sami and the Chief as well.

The immense pressure against her shield grows a little lighter, as her companions join her fight.

They’d followed her, after all.

There’s no time to fully take that in, and as soon as there is the slightest break in the shooting, Diana is up and running once again. They follow her lead, beyond the German trench and into the village of Veld, and actually manage to listen to her for once.

And with each passing moment, she gains more and more confidence. She moves without needing to think, with her shield, sword, and lasso acting as extensions of her body in this deadly dance of might and force.

It’s _exhilarating_.

She and Steve lock eyes several times during the battle, and he finally starts to work _with_ her, instead of holding her back. Even in the midst of this chaos, it sends a jolt of something like joy to her heart when he calls to her, and he, Sameer, and the Chief use the door of the armored truck to boost her up and into the bell tower.

Afterwards, when the battle is fought and won… When Charlie is singing inside, snow is falling from the sky, and she is dancing with Steve… Diana once again feels like her place in this world is settling.

It felt right to be fighting, but it feels equally right to take the time to celebrate this moment of calm, for however long it can last. She understands, now, that the German General Ludendorff must be Ares’ human disguise. But, just for this moment, Ares can wait. Alongside the fight against War, Diana knows the importance of appreciating peace.

“Is this what people do, when there are no wars to fight?” she asks Steve.

He looks surprised at the question, but answers her after just a brief pause. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “This, and other things.”

“What other things?”

“Um…” He squints upwards, thinking, until what he comes up with is, “Have breakfast.”

Diana can’t help but smile at this response.

He goes on. “They really love a good breakfast. And, um, they love to wake up, and read the paper, and go to work.”

Steve looks away from her, then, eyeing his boots as he finishes, “They get married. Make some babies, grow old together. I guess.”

He looks back up at her, his eyes locking onto hers.

Steve looks at her in a way that makes her heart ache and beat faster at the same time. It is not unwelcome, exactly, this way that he looks at her. But nor is she sure that she is quite ready for what he seems to want.

“What is it like?” she asks him. This life of normalcy he describes—one of work, and babies, and growing old—is so far removed from anything she has ever known, or even considered.

His lips quirk upwards for a split-second, though he does not look particularly happy. He considers her, his eyes sweeping over her face, and he admits with a whisper, “I have no idea.”

They continue to sway back and forth together, and while neither one of them may know what a normal life is like, for now, this feels like enough.

* * *

Outside, dancing in the village square, a relaxed calm had come over Diana. But later that night, as she and Steve climb the stairs together in the local inn, Diana feels a surge of adrenaline build up within her. There’s something about being back inside, enclosed within these four walls, that has her nearly bursting with restless energy.

It’s as though everything from earlier that day now crashes down upon her—the argument with Steve, revealing herself as an Amazon, the crossing of No Man’s Land, fighting the Germans here in Veld, soaring through the air and crashing into the bell tower…

She should be tired, but how can she possibly just go to sleep after a day such as this?

Diana turns to Steve, thinking to ask if he feels this same restive energy roiling inside him.

One look at him, and it is clear that he does.

He turns away from her door, closing it behind him, and comes to face her. She knows what he will do even before he does it.

Something has changed between them on this day, although she cannot quite articulate what it is. It is more than simply having fought together, Diana thinks, but beyond that… Somewhere between the fighting and the dancing, she has come to see him in a new light. Just as, she thinks, he has also come to see her differently as well.

There is desire in his gaze, but while that is not exactly new, the awed respect that accompanies it is.

If she asks him to, she knows that he will leave without question. But as he stands before her now, his eyes asking her for permission, she finds that she is curious enough not to stop him.

The curve of his knuckles strokes along her cheek in the lightest of touches, and she reaches out to echo his movement. The feel of rough stubble across her fingertips, a new sensation, is almost enough to pull her out of the moment, before she lets her hand drift to the back of his neck, and his palm opens against the curve of her jaw.

Diana cannot help the way that Kasia lingers in her mind in this moment, but as Steve’s lips meet hers, everything feels mercifully different.

The height of him, the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him—yes, everything is different, kissing this man.

Steve kisses with his whole body. He leans into her, one arm wrapped tightly around her with his hand splayed open across her lower back, holding her against him, as his other hand drops down to rest against her hip.

Diana kisses him back, but soon the fire burning within her settles into embers, still hot but no longer actively burning, and Diana is the one to pull away.

It takes a moment for Steve to come back to himself. Diana watches him as his eyes flutter open, before he releases her as though he were burned, shaking his head quickly back and forth and taking an almost stumbling few steps away from her.

“Diana, I’m sorry, I— I shouldn’t-a— I mean—”

“It is all right,” she tells him. “I… Your advances are not… unwanted, exactly.”

Steve flinches. “Well that doesn’t sound all that great,” he mumbles, as he runs a hand over his face.

She feels a sudden burst of affection for him and smiles at him, letting out a soft laugh. She says, “You’re a good man, Steve.” Reaching out to touch his shoulder, she adds, “After I defeat Ares, I think I would like to get to know you better.”

He looks up at her, and something in her expression seems to relax him.

“Yeah.” He nods. “After the war, okay. I’d like that too.”

Diana squeezes his shoulder and then lets go. Steve alternates quickly between eyeing the floor and glancing back up at her.

“Well,” he says. “I’ll just be next door, then.” He clears his throat. “Good night, Diana.”

In the face of him leaving—in the face of this day ending—some part of Diana wonders whether she’s made a mistake. Maybe they need to take advantage of this time that they have. Maybe this could be a harmless release of energy. Maybe…

“Good night,” Diana replies. Even if it’s a mistake, it’s the decision that she’s made, and she has no room in her heart for any doubts.

Steve hesitates a moment, before he strides purposefully over to Diana’s side, kisses her once more, close-mouthed but intense, and then he’s quickly gone out of the room.

Diana lies in bed for a long time before she falls asleep.

That night, she dreams of peace.

* * *

Gas canisters fly over Diana’s head, and in what feels like the blink of an eye, Veld shifts from an oasis of joy into a site of heartbreak.

She walks through the fog of gas and sees nothing but death. She walks through the fog and can almost feel the crack burning through her heart.

She walks through the fog and can only think of Steve.

She thinks of how she could have killed Ludendorff right there at the gala, if not for Steve’s interference; she thinks of how many lives she could have saved, if not for him.

How could she have possibly thought that, with time, she could actually love him?

Diana’s heart breaks, but the day is not yet done.

She thinks of Steve; she thinks of the people of Veld; and she turns to ride back towards Ares and finish this once and for all.

* * *

_“It’s not about ‘deserve!’ Maybe we don’t, but it’s not about that. It’s about what you believe.”_

_“I can save today; you can save the world.”_

_“I wish we had more time.”_

_“I love you.”_

Steve’s words echo through Diana’s mind, along with the continued ringing in her ears, as she watches him run away from her; away from her, and towards the airplane full of weaponized gas.

This whiplash of her feelings on this day is enough to make her feel sick.

From heartbreak to anger to triumph to disillusionment to confusion to…

Then again, it could also be the series of massive explosions that she’s experienced at Ares’ hand that is causing her queasiness.

“Steve!”

She tries to call after him, but after tilting his head just slightly in her direction, he only runs faster.

Diana doesn’t quite understand what it is that he is doing, but his words to her… They felt like a goodbye.

The harsh beating of her heart and raw pain in her throat urge her to run after him, to stop him at any cost.

But earlier that day he’d asked her to trust him, and Diana hadn’t.

She closes her eyes, and decides that now she simply has to believe in him and his mission. Steve will do what he must, just as Diana must play her own role.

For she is the only one who can stop Ares. _She_ is the God Killer.

It hasn’t quite sunken in yet, but she turns again to face the God of War.

She will destroy him for the sake of mankind.

She will destroy him for the sake of one man.

* * *

The blast from Steve’s exploding plane, high above the ground, is so bright that Diana can barely stand to watch. She wills her eyes to remain open.

Men are stupid.

That was what she’d first thought, and it is true.

They are also brave, and kind, and passionate.

Men are fragile.

They are so incredibly, unbearably fragile.


	3. Part 3, Nikkos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue in italics for this section is meant to indicate that the people are speaking in Greek, not English.

[3]

The sounds of a rowdy commotion come from somewhere nearby in the market, but Diana doesn’t pay it much attention at first. She continues strolling amongst the stalls, in no real hurry to make the purchases she requires.

As the commotion grows louder, however, she turns towards the noise in curiosity.

There’s a man running straight for her, but his head is turned to look behind him, so he doesn’t see her standing in his way.

“Προσέξτε!” Diana calls out in warning— _Look out!_ Somehow, in the moment, the thought of simply getting out of the way doesn’t occur to her.

The man whips his head around, but he doesn’t have enough time or room to alter his path, and he crashes directly into Diana.

He nearly bounces off her, losing his feet out from under him, even as she remains, both literally and figuratively, unmoved.

On reflex, she reaches out for him, and she manages to grab hold of his shirt with one hand and easily lift him back onto his feet before he hurtles to the ground.

Diana thinks, belatedly, that she maybe shouldn’t have done that.

The man stares at her in bewildered awe, before a delighted grin breaks out across his face.

“ _It’s you_!” he says in Greek. “ _It must be_.”

There’s recognition in his eyes, even though Diana is fairly certain that they’ve never met before. He is just slightly taller than she, with unkempt brown hair and several days’ worth of stubble. From the looks of him, he likely isn’t used to anyone nearly knocking him down and then lifting him with ease.

Movement over his shoulder draws Diana’s attention as two policemen round a corner and then hurry in their direction.

Following her gaze, the man seems to remember his need for urgency.

“ _Oh, gotta run_ ,” he tells her. He begins to head off, but after a few paces, he turns so that he is going backwards. Even as he continues to move away, he calls back to her, “ _Welcome to our little island, Princess! I hope to run into you again sometime!_ ”

With that, he gives her a rough salute and then turns back around and into a full sprint, just a few seconds before the policemen rush past Diana, audibly huffing out their effort.

Diana stares after them all, brows furrowed in puzzlement, even as the man who’d run into her turns another corner and dashes out of sight.

* * *

* * *

Diana folds up Etta’s latest letter and places it in her desk drawer, along with the others she’s received over the past nearly ten months she’s spent traveling.

Gazing absently out the window of her sparse room, Diana considers her friend’s words. It’s true that she’s purposefully kept herself moving, without settling down. She spent many years in England, after the war, working at Etta’s side, but she couldn’t stay there indefinitely, in the end.

It’s also true, however, that Diana has now done more in the way of “staying put,” as Etta put it, than she’d done anywhere else since London. She’s rented a room above a small καφενείο, a café, near the edge of the city, earning enough drachmae by minding the shop semi-regularly. She lives frugally, and doesn’t need much to remain content.

And Diana likes it here, in the Cretan capital city of Chania. It still makes her heart ache with homesickness, but there’s something… “Pleasant” isn’t the right word; but there’s something welcome in the longing that she feels.

With a sigh, Diana allows herself several long moments to think back on what she’s lost, before gathering herself to focus what she now has.

She’s been exploring the city, bit by bit, and had thought today to look into renting a boat to take out on the sea.

With no particular merchant in mind for where to get such a boat—she thinks of asking Thalia, whom Diana sees working in the café when she passes by outside, but decides to follow her own whims instead—Diana heads down towards the docks of the Old Venetian Harbor.

She wanders aimlessly for some time, taking simple enjoyment in the bustle of the harbor. Diana can only smile in amusement as she admits to herself how strange it still is, even after all these years, to see so many _men_ about. There seem to be mostly recreational crafts in port, along with several shipping vessels, leaden down with freight. The fishermen, Diana knows, would have ventured out much earlier in the day.

A storefront catches her eye; perhaps it’s the name, “Ο Νερο Νεράιδα,” or “The Water Nymph,” that strikes her fancy. She looks more closely, and a sign in the window advertises their rates by the hour, day, or week.

A small bell rings overhead when Diana enters, and a voice from the back room calls out, “Μια στιγμή, παρακαλώ!” _Just a moment, please!_

Diana gazes around the shop as she waits. The boats themselves are all presumably down by the docks, but the small space is full with models, maps, and guidebooks. Some lovely artwork, of the sea and the city, covers the walls.

A man steps out into the main room, running his hand through his hair, and there’s a moment when Diana’s attention is drawn to him, but he hasn’t yet looked up at her.

She frowns—the man looks familiar, somehow, but she can’t quite…

He looks up, and instantly stutters to a halt. He blinks at her, hand still frozen in his hair, before a wide grin spreads across his face as he lets his hand fall to his side.

“ _So this time it’s you who runs into me!_ ” the man says.

It still takes Diana a moment, but then it hits her. It’d been more than a month ago, but— “ _You’re that man from the market_ ,” she realizes.

He puts his hand to his heart and gives her a slight bow.

“ _Nikkos Gallanis, at your service_.”

Diana takes a minute to study him. He’s quite good-looking, she notes; clean-shaven where last time he’d been scruffy, with light blue eyes, high cheekbones, and thick chestnut hair. But there’s nothing about him that suggests how it is that he’d seemed to recognize her, that first time.

“ _Do I…?_ ” she begins. “ _Do we know each other?_ ”

He grimaces for just a moment, looking almost sheepish. “ _Ah, no_ ,” he replies simply. “ _That is… Well, you see…_ ” He takes a quick, deep breath, and then nods to himself. “ _It’s one of my uncles, you see_ ,” he explains. “ _He fought in The Great War. Among other places, he fought in Belgium_.”

Diana feels her face go pale.

This is why she’d left London… This is why she hasn’t settled down, why she can never settle down long-term…

“ _And what would that have to do with anything_?” she snaps out, unable to keep the harshness from her voice.

Nikkos holds out his hands in appeasement. “ _Sorry, sorry,_ ” he attempts to mollify her. “ _I know this must seem… Well, I don’t really know. Odd, I guess? Alarming, by the look of you. And I’m sorry, but don’t you…_ ”

His words trail off. His eyes are practically shining with the intensity of his gaze upon her. He takes a few steps towards her, and Diana has to resist the urge to back away from him.

“ _Don’t you feel it?_ ” he continues urgently, gesturing back and forth between them. “ _Maybe I don’t have enough immortal blood still within me, I suppose. But I_ _can sense it in you. I’ve heard stories about you, but no one told me what it would feel like to stand before you._ ”

It’s the word “immortal” that throws Diana off.

She’d thought… She doesn’t quite know what she’d first thought. If this man’s uncle saw her in Belgium, and she’s been recognized, looking exactly the same, almost 17 years later…

But with him carelessly throwing around words like “immortal blood” and looking at her as though he’s just seen a favorite childhood hero come to life, Diana doesn’t know what to think.

It’s too much; too much to figure out right in this moment.

“ _I don’t know what you’re talking about_ ,” she tells him, as calmly as she can manage. “ _You must have me confused with someone else_.”

She turns and walks back out the door, keeping a purposefully even gait, and even as she hears him call out after her—“ _No please, wait!_ ”—Diana doesn’t look back.

* * *

In the end, Diana’s curiosity gets the better of her.

It’s a little more than two weeks later when Diana shows up back at the boat rental shop. She’d walked by one other time, three days prior. But a glance through the front window showed someone different behind the counter, a girl, dealing with a customer, and Diana had simply continued on by.

This time, it is the man—Nikkos, he had said his name was—who is there once again. He’s writing something in a large ledger on the counter, and Diana simply watches him from outside at first.

Nikkos looks up when she enters the shop. He clearly recognizes her right away, and a bright, excited smile crosses his face before he manages to adopt a more serious expression. He stares back at her, focused but wary, and waits for her to speak first.

“Καλημέρα,” Diana says to him.

He nods and returns the greeting, “ _Good morning_ ,” before they both return to silence.

Eventually, Diana breaks the stillness between them. “ _Who are you, exactly, and what is it that you think you know about me_?”

He takes a moment before he answers, considering what to say.

“ _My name is Nikkos Gallanis_ ,” he tells her again. With a deep breath, he continues, “ _My mother and her sisters are_ _Nereids_ _, there were several_ _Gigantes_ _in my family, and the_ _Curetes_ _were my ancestors. Quite a few of my cousins also claim to be descended from Poseidon, in some way or another._ ”

It takes Diana a moment to process this bit of information, and then, in spite of herself, Diana has to smile. What are the odds, she wonders, that she would manage to somehow come across the son of a sea nymph.

She thinks of what little she knows of the Curetes—legend has it that the first inhabitants of Crete, born from the earth, were guardians over Zeus as a child, until he came of age.

“ _As for yourself_ ,” Nikkos continues, “ _there were rumors, when I was just a boy, that one of_ _Themyscira’s_ _warrior women had actually left the island. None in my family were close enough to the Olympians to know anything for sure, but if a group of minor deities is good for one thing, they’re good for gossip. They say you are the Amazonian Queen’s own daughter_.”

“ _And your uncle_?” Diana questions, pointedly neither confirming nor denying anything that Nikkos has said.

He replies, “ _When my uncle saw you in Belgium, he understood who you must be. He came home and sang your praises. He has some talent as an artist, and he made several drawings of you. It’s how I first recognized you, in the market_. _”_

Diana feels her heart clench, but breathes through it. It has been so long since she’s heard anyone speak so straightforwardly of these things, nymphs and giants and the gods, she doesn’t quite know what to think.

But maybe… Maybe, with how much he already knows… Maybe Diana can finally relax.

Careful not to reveal too much, Diana asks, “ _And what else would you profess to know about me_?” Her father, she wonders; does he know about her father?

He considers the question for a moment. “ _Nothing, I don’t think_.” He smiles, full of charm, and admits, “ _I don’t even know your name_.”

Diana says nothing at first. She’s grown much more cautious, since Steve.

Finally, she answers his implied question. “ _Diana_ ,” she says. “ _My name is Diana_.”

* * *

Nikkos is slightly out of breath by the time they make it to the top of the hill to the eastern side of Chania, but Diana understands immediately why he’d insisted that they go.

She hasn’t seen this vantage point before. The city spreads out below them, arching to the left, with Chania Bay unfolding out from the coastline. The green trees, the white buildings, the blue water… It somehow feels like all the colors are brighter, here.

“ _It’s beautiful_ ,” Diana whispers softly, almost reverently.

Nikkos has regained his breath and comes to stand next to her, grinning.

They stand together in companionable silence for some time, taking in the sights below them. But then Diana is startled out of her reverie when there’s a feeling of something—she doesn’t know what it is, at first—against her hand.

She looks down and is surprised to see that a cat has jumped up onto the low stone wall in front of them. It butts its little head into Diana’s hand a second time. Diana smiles in response, shifting her hand around to pet and scratch the animal between its ears.

It’s shorthaired and almost entirely black, except for one back paw, pure white. It looks hungry, but not starved; clearly a stray, but doing all right for itself.

The cat begins to purr at Diana’s attention. It paces back and forth in front of Diana, arching its body along her hand.

“ _Well aren’t you a sweet one_?” she murmurs, and the cat turns to blink its yellow-green eyes at her.

Nikkos looks to her in confusion for a beat, before he notices the cat.

“ _Ah, perfect!_ ” he exclaims, surprising Diana with his enthusiasm. He immediately kneels down beside the wall, holding his hand out for the cat to sniff.

The cat isn’t particular about the source of attention and trots right over to him, purring all the while.

With a grin, Nikkos runs his palm along the length of the cat, stopping to scratch right at the base of its tail. He coos and clucks at it, murmuring happily. The size of Nikkos’ hand dwarfs the cat’s head, but it doesn’t seem to mind as he palms the cat’s back and gently nudges it side to side. The cat flops over onto its side and bats playfully back at Nikkos.

As they continue to play, Nikkos explains, “ _We’ve been needing a good mouser at home and in the shop_.” He continues, speaking directly to the cat. “ _So what do you think, little one? Are you a good hunter? You seem very formidable to me. Would you like to live with a dry roof over your head? And if you’re lucky, a beautiful woman like Diana might even come pay you a visit sometimes. What do you say?_ ”

Diana snorts in amusement. “ _Quite the sales pitch_ ,” she comments. “ _But what about…_ ” She pauses to look around. “ _Where is Zephyr, anyway?_ ”

Wiggling his fingers in front of the cat, Nikkos waits a moment before lowering his hand to the cat’s head, stroking gently as he twists around to look as well.

“ _Zephyr!_ ” he calls out. “ _Come!_ ”

There’s a sound of rustling in some bushes a little ways away, and then Nikkos’ dog, some kind of alopekis/shepherd mix, comes trotting over in their direction.

Zephyr catches sight of the cat, and his ears immediately perk up in keen interest.

Nikkos shifts into a crouch and catches him, corralling Zephyr within his arms to hold him back, before he can get too close.

The cat scampers away along the wall, but doesn’t go too far. It looks back at them in wary-but-still-curious interest.

Nikkos commands Zephyr to sit and stay, then reaches for the sack at his feet, rooting around until he finds the cheese that they’d brought with them (along with crackers and some fruit).

“ _Keep an eye on Zeph?_ ” he asks Diana, and she nods, moving over to the dog’s side and patting his head. Zephyr whines softly when Nikkos stands up, but calms when Diana sits beside him and places her hand on his back.

Diana has to smile as she watches the tentative dance between Nikkos and the cat. He ends up luring the cat back towards them with a trail of crumbled cheese, left along the wall.

Nikkos returns to his crouch on Zephyr’s other side. The dog is practically vibrating with excitement, tail wagging eagerly as the cat approaches, but he stays obediently still.

“ _Hey, my little one_ ,” Nikkos murmurs when the cat is back within reach. “ _I_ knew _you liked us._ ”

Zephyr pushes his face closer to the cat, who hisses and reaches out a paw to whack him on the nose. Nikkos laughs, as Zephyr pulls back, shaking his head with a soft snuffle of noise.

“ _That’s right, Achilles, you show him who’s boss_ ,” Nikkos says in delight. “ _You’re a little warrior, aren’t you_?”

Diana leans back, continuing to idly pet Zephyr as she amusedly watches Nikkos and the cat, playing together once again.

A bit later, as they’re hiking back down into the city—with Nikkos having somehow coaxed the cat into riding along on his shoulder—Diana asks, “ _So, you’ve named it Achilles, then?_ ”

Nikkos grins and replies, “ _Of course. With that back paw, he practically named himself_.”

“ _And what if it’s a girl?_ ”

“ _Come on, Diana,_ ” he chides lightly. “ _You of all people should know that girls can still be warriors! If Achilles is a girl, then she’s a girl! Her name is still Achilles. Right, little one?_ ”

Achilles chooses that moment to let out a loud meow, and Diana laughs, reaching out to scratch the small thing under its chin.

“ _Of course, Achilles, I apologize_ ,” she tells the cat.

Zephyr, leading the way ahead of them, pauses to bark back at them as well. He seems somewhat put out by all the attention that Achilles is getting.

“ _Don’t be jealous, Zeph, I still love you too!_ ” Nikkos calls out in reassurance. “ _I’ve just made a new friend_.”

Diana had woken up that morning feeling homesick—any specifics from her dream had faded quickly from her memory, but it left behind a strong sense of melancholy—but the day had turned out quite pleasantly. Still, the sudden wave of affection for Nikkos that washes over Diana is unexpected.

She’s not quite sure what to think about it, but as they continue walking down the hill, Nikkos whistling softly to himself, Diana’s heart beats just a little faster.

* * *

It’s not until several weeks later that it even occurs to Diana to ask—

“ _By the way_ ,” she begins, turning to Nikkos. It’s another beautiful, sunny day, but the air feels nice and cool out on the water. Diana sits to one side of the boat, with Nikkos at the stern and Zephyr standing proudly at the bow, tongue lolling. She’s managed to pick up some of the basics of sailing, and she can help when it’s needed, but she is content to let him take control. She asks, “ _What was going on that day when we first met_?”

He adjusts the tiller slightly, pointing their sailboat a bit more into the wind before he responds.

“ _In the shop?_ ” He frowns. “ _Nothing special, I don’t think… Why?_ ”

“ _No, not in the shop_ ,” she corrects him. “ _We met before that, remember?_ ”

“ _Ah. Yes._ ” He clears his throat. “ _In the market, you mean._ ”

In the bright sunlight, Diana cannot quite tell whether or not Nikkos is blushing.

“ _Well?_ ” she prompts.

“ _Well_ …” He pauses, pursing his lips as he thinks about his choice of words. “ _I was being a good friend_.”

Diana laughs. “ _Come, now. What does that mean?_ ”

He doesn’t answer at first. He seems almost embarrassed, or perhaps unsure of how she will react.

“ _It can’t be that bad_ ,” she prods. She nudges her foot against his. “ _You can tell me. Will I want to push you overboard when you do?_ ”

“ _Well I should hope not_ ,” he chuckles in response.

Nikkos lapses back into silence, and Diana chooses to let him be.

It doesn’t take long before he sighs and goes on. “ _I know you don’t much like fighting when it can be avoided_ ,” he says. “ _I have this friend, Peter. He’s a good man, really, but a bit of a hothead. He got into some big argument with one of the vendors. I don’t even know what he was so mad about. But he got mad enough that he just straight up punched the man. It was such a stupid thing to do, but that’s Peter._ ”

Nikkos sighs again. He runs his free hand, the one not still holding the tiller, through his hair, already tousled by the wind, mussing it up even further. He continues, “ _The merchant looked ready to fight back, but those two policemen must have been nearby and heard the yelling, because they showed up right then. And you have to understand—Peter has four younger siblings, and he’s the one taking care of them all since their parents both died within the last year. So when the police showed up, I just felt like he had more to lose than I did, and so I did what I could to get the attention off of him._ ”

Diana raises her eyebrows at him expectantly when he doesn’t continue right away.

The edge of his mouth twitches upwards for just a moment before he concludes, “ _So I picked out the sturdier-looking cop, punched him in the face, and then ran_.”

“ _Nikkos!_ ” Diana exclaims, unable to help herself.

“ _I know!_ ” he replies immediately. His shoulders hunch up around his ears. “ _I know, it was reckless. But, it worked. And Peter’s been behaving himself since then. And—_ ” He pauses again, shifting his eyes over to meet Diana’s gaze directly for the first time since she’d asked him about all this. “ _And I met you_.”

Diana doesn’t know how to respond to that. Not to his words, and certainly not to the sudden softness to his tone.

She can’t condone his actions, of course.

But, well.

They may not have ever met if he’d acted differently.

“ _You were being a good friend_ ,” she eventually says. She smiles at him, hesitantly. “ _I suppose I won’t push you overboard, then._ ”

* * *

Nikkos drums his fingers on the table and seems intent on contemplating his coffee as they sit at the café’s outside patio. Spring is just around the corner, but it’s a chillier day than normal, so they have the area to themselves, while Thalia minds the café inside. Diana hadn’t been expecting to see him, but it was a pleasant surprise when he showed up and asked to speak with her.

He clearly has something on his mind, and Diana is content to sit and wait him out.

Still, it feels like a while before Nikkos finally takes a sip of his coffee, and after returning his mug to the table, he looks up at her to say, “ _My mother would like to meet you_.”

Diana blinks. She hadn’t known what he would say, but… She certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

“ _Your mother?_ ” she repeats, and he nods. There’s a light flush to his cheeks, now.

“ _She’s invited you over for dinner tomorrow night._ ”

“ _Because I’m…_ ” she glances around, but the street is empty. She checks to make sure that Thalia isn’t eavesdropping too closely, but still lowers her voice to ask, “ _Because I’m an Amazon? Or… She doesn’t think that we’re…?_ ”

She trails off, but Nikkos catches her meaning.

“ _No_ ,” he assures her. “ _No, no_. _Mostly for that first reason. She just, she knows who you are, and she knows that we’re friends, and she’d like to meet you. It’s her brother, you know, who saw you in Belgium. He might be there tomorrow night as well, actually_.”

Diana eyes him suspiciously. “ _How much of your family will be there, exactly?_ ” she asks.

He considers the question. “ _Well… Quite a bit, probably. We always have big family dinners on Sundays. But you wouldn’t be the only non-family member. At least a few of my siblings or cousins usually bring some friends along as well._ ”

“ _I see_ ,” Diana intones dryly. “ _So you want me to meet your mother. And father, presumably. And your siblings. And cousins. And their friends. And maybe your uncle. Plus perhaps some other aunts and uncles as well, I assume?_ ”

Nikkos offers her a grin, his face open and attempting innocence. “ _Yes?_ ” he replies.

Diana can only laugh at his expression, both sheepish and compelling.

“ _All right_ ,” she says, already feeling a slight flutter of nerves. “ _Let’s meet your family._ ”

* * *

She arrives a little early, at Nikkos’ suggestion, to get in the first introductions in a quieter setting.

Nikkos’ family lives in a nice house right at the edge of the sea. Nikkos had told her at some point that the house, a little ways’ walk to the east from the harbor, has been in his family for centuries. She meets him at his apartment in town, and after a brief stop so she can say hello to Zephyr and Achilles, they walk over together.

With Diana bearing wine and fresh flowers, Nikkos leads her into a bustling kitchen. There are five people in the room, two older and three younger. Nikkos has to clear his throat for anyone to notice them. When they all turn to look at them, Diana is struck by the familial resemblance between them all.

“ _Nikky!_ ” the younger girl exclaims, jumping up from the table and running to throw her arms around her brother. She’s in her mid-to-late-teens, Diana guesses.

“ _I just saw you last week, Sofia_ ,” Nikkos laughs, but he doesn’t hesitate at all to hug her tightly back. When she releases him, Nikkos adds, “ _This is my friend, Diana_.”

Sofia nods at Diana with a shy smile. “ _Hello_ ,” she says, before stealing back to her seat at the table, where she’d been chopping cucumbers.

“ _Your friend_ , _huh?_ ” A young man (older than Sofia but younger than Nikkos) leans against an open doorway to their right, wearing a knowing smirk.

“ _Yes, Alex, my_ friend,” Nikkos insists right back. “ _Show some respect, you rascal._ ”

Nikkos lunges for his brother, feinting a blow towards his head. Alex giggles and ducks out of the way.

“ _No violence in my house!_ ”

The woman standing by the stove is clearly Nikkos’ mother. Diana remembers that she is a nymph, though you wouldn’t be able to tell simply from looking at her. She is beautiful, likely older than she looks, but the few wrinkles around her face suit her well.

She scowls at both of her sons, but Nikkos turns to her with a wide smile.

“ _Sorry, Ma_ ,” he says before crossing the kitchen to wrap her up in an embrace, literally lifting her slightly off the ground.

“ _Oof, that’s enough_.” Contradicting her own words, she hits him on the shoulder until he lets her go and kisses her on the cheek.

“ _You’re_ both _rascals_ ,” she murmurs affectionately. Turning her attention to Diana, she says, “ _Diana, it’s lovely to meet you, and feel free to ignore all of my idiot children._ ”

“ _Mrs. Gallanis—_ ”

“ _Tsk; Eva, please._ ”

“ _Eva. Thank you so much for having me, it’s an honor to meet you_.”

“ _See, you hoodlums?_ Some _people know how to be polite around here. It’s really not so difficult._ ”

Eva crosses to her as they exchange words, though she tosses her last few sentences over her shoulder and towards her children.

“ _Thank you for these_ ,” she says, taking the wine and flowers from Diana. “ _Alexander, make yourself useful and put these in some water._ ”

After putting the bottle onto the counter and handing off the flowers, Eva then surprises Diana by turning back and immediately pulling Diana down into a hug.

“ _It really is remarkable_ ,” she says in a whisper as she pulls back and places her hands to Diana’s cheeks. Her eyes sweep back and forth across Diana’s face. “ _You look just like his drawings_.”

She then releases Diana and takes a step back. With a few light pats to Diana’s shoulder, she adds, “ _I have to finish with the cooking, but we’ll talk more later. Sofi, go see if your Uncle Theo is back from his walk yet_.”

Then Nikkos’ father comes over to her, offering out his hand to shake. “ _I know we can be an overwhelming bunch_ ,” he says in introduction, “ _so I won’t say much now. But welcome to our home. I’m Stavros_.”

Diana smiles sincerely. Stavros seems quieter than his wife, more relaxed, but there’s an easy warmth to his demeanor. “ _Thank you, sir_ ,” she says. And when he lifts his eyebrows at her, she corrects, “ _Stavros_.”

There’s only one more person in the room who hasn’t said anything yet. The youngest child, perhaps 14 or 15, sits at the table, next to where Sofia had been. He stares at her with wide eyes.

Diana takes a few steps forward and crouches down to his level. “ _Hello_ ,” she greets. “ _What’s your name?_ ”

He doesn’t respond at first, only to then blurt out, with a sense of wonder in his voice, “ _Are you really a princess?_ ”

Everyone laughs, and Diana gives the boy a friendly smile. “ _Yes_ ,” she replies. “ _I really am._ ”

Eva calls out, “ _Giannis,_ _you can’t tell your friends._ ”

Giannis rolls his eyes. “ _I_ know _, Ma._ ”

The awestruck expression that had slipped away at his mother’s caution reappears when Diana says, “ _It’s an honor to meet you, Giannis_ ,” and she reaches out her right hand for him to shake.

Diana then tries to offer help in preparing the meal, but she gets shooed out of the kitchen, so Nikkos takes her on a tour of the house instead. He shows her the bedroom that used to be his and his older brother Ilias’, now shared by Alex and Giannis. Sofia gets her own room, once shared by Nikkos’ other sisters, Titania and Eleni.

Nikkos shares a few stories from his childhood as they stroll through the house—here’s where Nikkos broke his arm while roughhousing with Ilias; this was the best hiding spot for hide-and-go-seek; there used to be a lamp, right here, until Eleni broke it playing football in the house.

They finish up by sitting together in the courtyard, out behind the house. There are several chairs and a small table set up in the center, and it’s there that Theo finds them.

Nikkos notices him first, standing perfectly still at the back door. He holds something in his hands, what looks like a small book, and stares across the courtyard at Diana.

 _“Uncle!_ ” Nikkos calls out. “ _Come, join us!_ ”

He stands and hurries over to Theo’s side, offering his arm in support, but Theo turns him down.

“ _I’m all right, boy. I’m all right_.”

Diana understands when she sees the noticeable limp in Theo’s gait. She gets to her feet as he walks over to her, with Nikkos trailing behind. Theo doesn’t take his eyes off of her, and he remains standing when he reaches the table, although he does place his book down and reach for the back of a chair to steady himself.

“ _It really is you_ ,” Theo whispers after a long moment. “ _Some days I couldn’t fully be sure whether or not you were real, but_ …” A grin bursts across his face. “ _Here you are._ ”

Diana smiles back; it’s strange, meeting this man, who knew her back then. “ _I am real_ ,” she agrees. “ _You were fighting with the British in Belgium?_ ”

He nods and settles into a chair when Nikkos pulls it out for him. Diana and Nikkos then retake their seats as well.

“ _I was doing my postgraduate studies at University College London when the war started_ ,” Theo explains. “ _A group of us had the bright idea to enlist. The rest of my friends were local lads, but the recruitment officer still let me in, since Greece hadn’t joined the fight yet._ ”

Theo pauses, looking down at the book he’d placed on the table and running his fingers lightly over the cover. He adds quietly, “ _Of the six of us, I’m the only one left, now._ ”

“ _I am very sorry for your loss_ ,” Diana tells him, her voice low and solemn, and she reaches out to lightly squeeze his shoulder. “ _I know how it still hurts._ ”

He nods again and manages a tight smile. The three of them sit in silence for a bit, until Theo gathers himself and, with a deep breath, he looks back up at them with a brighter expression.

“ _Many more would have died if it weren’t for you_ ,” he says to Diana. Before she can respond, he continues, “ _And I’m sure we’ll be called inside for dinner soon, but I wanted to show you this, if you don’t mind?_ ”

He gestures towards the book, angling it in her direction, and she scoots closer to him.

It’s a sketchbook, she realizes, as he opens it and begins flipping through the pages. She can only see snippets as they fly by—no bright colors, just grays and black and white; ink, charcoal, and graphite—until he finds what he’s looking for and shows it to her.

On the page to the left side, there are several small drawings. Two little soldiers. A feather. A large, leafy tree at the bottom of the page. The shape of the Cretan island, above which he had written out the word, “HOME.”

And on the page to the right, there’s a drawing of Diana.

It is unmistakably her. Theo couldn’t have seen her for all that long, but he’s managed to capture her remarkably well.

He’s drawn her in her Amazonian armor. There wasn’t much time at all that she spent in the trenches, looking like that, so he must have been incredibly close by.

Her hand hovers over the page, close, but not daring to actually touch it.

“ _I thought I knew exactly how the world worked, back then. I was wrong, but I didn’t know it yet_ ,” she remarks, before falling back into silence.

She doesn’t fully understand where this rush of emotion has come from, but something about seeing herself like that again… It’s a reminder, both of what she’s lost and who she is.

“ _Thank you_ ,” she eventually says. “ _You’re very talented. Thank you for sharing this with me_.”

She rests her hand on the table, and after a moment, Theo reaches for it. He envelops her hand in his own, and though neither one of them says another word, she squeezes back and holds on.

Diana catches Nikkos’ eye, just briefly. He smiles at her, warm and gentle, but seems to understand that this is about her and his uncle, and it’s not his place to intrude.

The three of them remain sitting in silence until Giannis appears at the back door to call them inside.

The dinner itself passes by in a blur.

Diana meets Ilias, Nikkos’ closest sibling in age and rapport, as well as their two older sisters and their husbands. In addition to Theo, there are two more of Eva’s siblings and their spouses, and… Diana isn’t even sure how many of Nikkos’ cousins she’s met.

The food—salad, bread, dakos, fresh fish, and moussaka— is absolutely delicious, the wine is flowing, the conversation is loud and boisterous, and the teasing towards her friendship with Nikkos is lighthearted.

It’s wonderful, really. It’s also _entirely_ overwhelming.

Before the dessert is brought out, Diana excuses herself for the bathroom. Before she returns to the table, however, she finds herself straying back out towards the courtyard.

In the moonlight, she sits down on one of the steps leading out of the house and takes a moment to simply breathe in the fresh air.

She knows that she should go back inside, but she can’t quite make herself do it yet.

She’s not sure how long it’s been (not too long, she doesn’t think) before Nikkos finds her and wordlessly sits down beside her.

“ _Everything all right?_ ” he asks her after a minute.

“ _Yes_.” She nods. Then shrugs. “ _Well… I don’t know. I am sorry, this night has been_ so _lovely, I’m not—_ ”

“ _We can be a lot to take in, all at once_ ,” Nikkos guesses.

It’s true, but no, that’s not quite right.

“ _It’s not even that,_ ” she tells him. “ _It’s that… It’s been such a very long time since I’ve had a meal like that. I don’t mean the food itself, though it was amazing, but_ …” She exhales shakily. “ _I haven’t been around_ family _like this in_ _nearly twenty years_. _I—_ ”

Her voice catches on something, and she can’t continue.

Nikkos shifts so that he can wrap his arm around her shoulders. He doesn’t pretend to understand all that she’s going through. He simply says, “ _I can’t even imagine, not really, not being able to go home, not being able to ever see my family. But, even though I know it can never be the same, not even close_ …” He pauses to squeeze his arm around her a little tighter. “ _You can absolutely feel free to borrow this family any time. No one can make up for what you’ve had to give up, but if we can make things even just a little bit easier, I know I speak for all of us when I say that we’re here for you, however we can be._ ”

Diana nods and allows herself to lean further into Nikkos’ half-embrace. She fights past the knot in her throat to whisper, “ _Thank you, Nikkos_.”

He twists his head so that he can press his lips against her temple, and then lets a stretch of stillness go by before he attempts to lighten the mood. “ _I mean_ ,” he says, “ _Alex and Giannis are already in love with you, so you’ve got them in your pocket. And my cousin Daphne, the one sitting next to you at dinner, she seemed to like you_ much _better than she likes me. So things are looking fairly good, if you want my family to adopt you._ ”

Chuckling lightly, Diana then takes in a deep breath and straightens up. Nikkos’ arm slides with her movement, remaining loose around her shoulders. Diana turns her face to him and, in a spur-of-the-moment decision—some combination of the emotions of the day, the delicate moonlight falling across his features, the hole in her heart, and the warmth in her gut—she leans in and kisses him.

He seems surprised at first, but quickly adjusts and deepens the kiss. It’s somewhat awkward, with them sitting side by side, but they’re able to twist just enough in each other’s direction to make it work.

Nikkos’ hand rises to stroke along her jawline in the barest touch, as though he’s afraid that she’ll pull away, and Diana reaches to keep her balance by placing her hand on his knee.

When they do pull apart, Diana’s in a markedly better mood than when she’d first come outside, almost chipper, and she announces, “ _All right, we should go back inside._ _Who knows what they’ve all been saying about our absence. And I don’t want to miss dessert._ ”

She stands up, ready.

Dazed, Nikkos can only manage a bewildered, “ _What?_ ” before Diana reaches down and hauls him to his feet.

Later that night, when Nikkos walks Diana home, they pause outside the door to her building.

Nikkos is clearly unsure of himself, unsure of where they stand. They stare into each other’s eyes, until Nikkos asks, “ _Can I kiss you again?_ ”

Diana nods. “ _Yes._ ”

She’s barely finished the word before he leans in and brings their lips together. He reaches around her lower back, pressing his open palm against her, as she leans backward against the wall of her building.

Soon, the sounds of others in the streets, though reasonably far away, are enough to get them to pull apart.

“ _So._ ” Diana clears her throat. “ _Perhaps we can get together again soon and rethink the state of our friendship. Might you be amenable to that?_ ”

Nikkos blinks.

“ _Are you asking me out on a date?_ ” he asks after a moment. “ _A romantic date?_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” Diana agrees.

He mumbles, almost to himself, “ _I don’t think a woman’s ever asked me on a date, before._ ”

“ _I’ve been wanting to try that new restaurant near the market, on Halidon Street. Maybe we could go there next weekend?_ ” continues Diana, undaunted.

Nikkos still seems somewhat bewildered by the turn of events, but he manages to say, “ _All right._ ”

With that, she leans forward once more to peck him on the cheek with a soft murmur of, “ _Goodnight, Nikkos,_ ” and then she disappears inside.

* * *

* * *

“ _You taste like cherries_ ,” Nikkos tells her, and the warm, sweet breath of his laughter falls across her lips.

Diana rolls her eyes, but makes no attempt to hide her affection for him.

“ _Yes, I should wonder why,_ ” she replies. “ _And so do you._ ”

As though to double check, she leans back against the wall and pulls him with her by the front of his shirt, bringing their mouths back together.

It has been an incredibly long day, but somehow they are still going strong, with a buzz of enchantment still running through and between them. It feels like so long ago that, early that morning, they’d left Chania with one of Nikkos’ cousins, Georgios, and his girlfriend to drive down through the countryside to Karános for the annual festival in celebration of the cherry harvest. It was Georgios’ vehicle, and though he wouldn’t let anyone else drive it, he was happy to take them along for the ride.

There had been a lovely ceremony, followed by a delicious meal and lots of music and dancing, lasting all night long.

And, of course, plenty of locally brewed cherry-flavored raki.

It was nearly dawn by the time the four of them had stumbled—with only Diana able to hold Georgios upright—back to their hotel rooms.

Now, with the early morning sun just beginning to stream through the window, with its curtain only half closed, Nikkos and Diana come together in a pleasant clash of lips and tongues and wandering hands.

With a look out at the dawning day, Diana challenges Nikkos with a smile, “ _You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?_ ”

Nikkos scoffs, as though affronted at the questioning of his stamina. But he cannot maintain the façade, and his stern countenance soon dissolves into tipsy laughter.

“ _No, my dearest,_ ” he responds, “ _I am perfectly wide awake for you_.”

And just as quickly as it had appeared, his giggly mirth is gone and replaced with a mounting fire behind his eyes.

He raises an arm to brace himself against the wall beside Diana’s head and leans in once more. This time, neither one stops to interrupt.

Before too long Diana reaches up to push back against Nikkos’ shoulder, and he opens his mouth to question her before her desire is made clear and they make their way over to the bed. Nikkos falls back first, pulling Diana with him. He slides up towards the middle of the bed, halfway sitting up so that he can reach back and pull his shirt off over his head. Diana follows suit, only managing to get her shirt unbuttoned before Nikkos draws her back towards him, with his lips zeroing in on her neck and his hands trailing up to her back and chest.

Nikkos frowns slightly when he tries to flip them over and Diana doesn’t go along with it, remaining atop him, but the rest of his body doesn’t seem to mind.

This is not their first time together, but Nikkos is not used to remaining lying on his back.

He seems to forget any of his doubts and falls back to the crisp white sheets with a groan when Diana reaches for his trousers and takes him in her hand.

Their coupling starts off slowly, but with intensity building. Nikkos can’t seem to stop his hands from moving all over her, straying down between her legs and then back up again, and she clutches his shoulders tightly.

The sun is considerably higher in the sky when they finally wear each other out.

They’re both breathing heavily, now lying side by side, and Nikkos blurts out, almost as if he can’t hold the words inside him, “ _Gods, I think I love you._ ”

He’s not looking at her as he says it. Diana isn’t sure at first whether it’s something that he truly means, or whether it’s a moment of sex-induced haze. But she sees his seriousness as soon as she turns her head to the side to stare at him. His face remains angled upwards and away from her, considering the ceiling in steadfast interest, but his wide-eyed look of near-panic gives him away.

Diana shifts onto her side and reaches out for him, gently turning his face towards her with a hand along his jaw. She angles her head forward to kiss him, just a chaste press of lips, before she pulls back to tell him, “ _There’s nothing wrong with that. I think I love you as well._ ”

Her heart beats loudly at the admission.

It’s been almost two years since they first met, fifteen months since they first kissed; it must be close to twenty years since she last told Kasia that she loved her. Diana will always love Kasia, she knows, but she has found room in her heart for more love.

Nikkos smiles—softly at first, then helplessly spreading into a wide and happy grin.

Diana kisses him again, but exhaustion finally overtakes them, and they both settle into sleep with smiles and warmth in their hearts.

* * *

“ _I’m back!_ ” Nikkos calls out as he enters the apartment. “ _The line was awful._ _Are you hungry?_ ”

There’s no reply other than a vague murmur of agreement, and Nikkos follows the sound into his kitchen.

Diana is sitting at the kitchen table, her back to him, with what looks like at least five different newspapers spread out in front of her. Achilles is sprawled out on top of one of them. Nikkos cocks his head in puzzlement.

Once he puts down the bag with their lunch, he moves over behind Diana’s chair, leans down to kiss her on the cheek, and then peers over her shoulder.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” he says. “ _But wasn’t there only_ one _newspaper here when I left?_ ”

Diana continues to read without looking at him, only pausing to pet Achilles’ head and then move her paw out of the way.

“ _Yes, I went and got the rest of these while you were out,_ ” she explains after a moment.

Nikkos considers this, and then asks, “ _But where did they come from? And why did you get them all?_ ”

Diana finishes the article she’d been reading, from “La Vanguardia,” a daily Spanish newspaper, and pulls another one, the “Paris Herald Tribune,” in front of her.

Intent on flipping through pages and scanning over the headlines, she forgets to respond to Nikkos until he prompts, “ _…Diana?_ ”

“ _Sorry. Uh, what did you say?_ ” She half turns in his direction, but his words come to her before he needs to repeat himself. “ _Oh, there’s a local man who sells all kinds of international newspapers. And I’ve lost track of what’s going on in the rest of the world,_ ” she says, with a frustrated scowl. “ _Look at this!_ ”

She pulls out yet another paper and gestures towards it, this time it’s the “Frankfurter Zeitung,” but Nikkos can only shake his head.

Frowning, he tells her, “ _Diana, you know that I can’t read… What is that, German?_ ”

“ _Sorry_ ,” she repeats. “ _I’m sorry, Nikkos._ ”

She rubs a hand over her forehead, trying to rub away her oncoming headache. Nikkos squeezes her shoulder and then moves to take the seat beside her at the table. His eyes scan over everything, and he gently nudges Achilles out of the way so that he can take Diana’s copy of “Η Καθημερινή,” the newspaper from Athens.

He begins reading but puts the paper down when Diana takes in a deep breath and begins to explain. “ _Italy and Spain have just joined a pact previously signed by Germany and Japan. They say it’s about neutralizing Soviet communism, but…_ ” Diana shakes her head. “ _I don’t like it._ ”

Nikkos reaches to take Diana’s hand in one of his. “ _I don’t understand,_ ” he says. “ _What’s wrong with the pact?_ ”

“ _These men in power—Mussolini, Hitler, and even_ _Mataxas_ _here in Greece—they’re taking their countries in a direction I don’t like. And there have been all these horrible rumors about what’s been going on in Germany_ …”

Diana shakes her head again, wishing she could will the stories into being untrue.

After a minute, Diana twists to look Nikkos in the face, her brow furrowed, as she concludes, “ _Reading between the lines, it sounds like they are preparing for_ war.”

“ _War?_ ” he repeats, incredulous. He looks out the window, as though he might see the war approaching across the horizon; as though war couldn’t possibly be coming when the sun is shining. He turns back to her, but he looks more confused than concerned. “ _That’s ridiculous, no one is going to war. Don’t you think everyone has learned their lesson from last time?_ ”

Diana looks back to the mess of newspapers she’s acquired, eyes roving quickly from one headline to the next.

She doesn’t say anything, but… No. No, she doesn’t think people have learned their lesson at all.

* * *

In the end, it’s not a very long discussion.

“ _So that’s it, then?_ ” Diana asks Nikkos. She tries, mostly unsuccessfully, to keep the resignation out of her voice. “ _You won’t come with me?_ ”

Nikkos won’t meet her eyes, but she can see how he clenches his jaw before he answers, his voice hardened, “ _Greece is not at war_.”

“ _Neither is Themyscira_ ,” Diana argues, “ _but you don’t see that holding me back_.”

Nikkos scoffs. “ _That is not a fair argument, and you know it_.”

Undeterred, Diana pushes on. “ _Greece’s neutrality didn’t hold your uncle back, either_ ,” she says.

At that, Nikkos finally looks up. His eyes are blazing, full of anger and pain and defiance.

“ _No_ ,” he practically spits out. “ _It didn’t. And my uncle came back a mere_ shell _of the man he’d been before, with all of his friends dead, and nothing to show for it but nightmares. My uncle went to war—he was there, fighting in the trenches day after day, for much longer than you were, might I add—and he has_ nothing _good to say about it._ ”

There’s a long silence, then, broken only by Zephyr’s low whine of distress at the tension in the room. Nikkos is the first to break the stare between them, as he turns to comfort his dog.

Diana lets her shoulders sag, feeling all of the fight drain out of her. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this argument, and as the crack in her heart starts to splinter, she can’t bring herself to have it again.

“ _All right_ ,” she says softly. “ _All right, I understand_.”

And she _does_ understand.

It’s not as though she wants to go back to war. It’s not as though she hadn’t hoped that she’d made a lasting difference for humanity, with Ares’ death. It’s not as though she actually wants to put Nikkos in danger; some part of her is relieved, really, that at least he will be safe.

Another long silence, even more oppressive than the last.

Still, she can hardly believe that this is happening again. That war is driving her to leave someone so dear to her behind.

 _Again_.

Diana closes her eyes, willing the tears she can feel forming to remain behind her eyes. It doesn’t really work, and she has to blink away a cloud of wetness before she can really see again.

She takes a few steps forward, crouching down to pet Zephyr one last time and kiss the top of his head. She doesn’t know where Achilles is; probably outside chasing birds. Standing back up, Diana moves closer to Nikkos. His posture is full of tension, but he does hug her back, tightly, when she wraps her arms around him.

“ _I will miss you, so very much_ ,” she whispers into his ear, voice cracking, before she kisses him hard on the cheek and pulls away. Without another look back, she grabs her bag and walks out of Nikkos’ life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The graphics in this chapter are made by me.


	4. Part 4, Peggy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve shifted the canon MCU timeline… The internet tells me that Steve Rogers crashed his plane in February, 1945, but I’ve made it a year earlier, to give myself more time to work with before the end of the war. And so everything else from the early Steve Rogers years is set a year earlier too (e.g., Steve becomes Captain America in 1942 instead of 1943.)

[4]

It’s in November of 1944 when Diana finally manages to get a solid lead on the secret scientific division of the Schutzstaffel.

The whispers that she’s been following for almost a year have all kinds of things to say about the horrible weapons the group is developing, though it’s been difficult to tell truth from tall tale. But the fact that this advanced weapons program exists in some capacity is undeniable.

It’s like having to deal with Dr. Maru all over again, but on what seems to be an even larger scale.

The man that Diana has been tracking for nearly a month eventually leads her to some kind of warehouse in the middle of the woods near Strasbourg. He’s fairly high up in the Nazi ranks and is somehow tied to whatever it is that’s been going on.

Diana has only just reached Sub-Basement 2 when the alarms go off.

At first she worries that she herself has accidentally set something off—until a number of guards go sprinting right past the spot where she’s hiding, and she hears the soft echo of rapid gunfire coming from somewhere up above her.

With no idea of what might be going on, or even, really, what this warehouse actually is, Diana figures that the best course of action is for her to climb up into the ventilation system. From there, she can either wait things out or see if she can find a better vantage point on what might be happening.

Once she’s up there, however, it doesn’t take long for Diana to decide that simply waiting isn’t going to be enough. She tries to remember the exact layout of the blueprints she’d acquired, and heads through the ventilation shafts in what she hopes is the direction to what had seemed like one of the main laboratories.

The shouting and gunfire seem to be getting closer, but it takes Diana a decent amount of time before she manages to find a vent that leads to anything other than a restroom or a closet.

At last, however, she does seem to have found something meaningful. From her spot in the ceiling, she doesn’t have a great view over everything, but there’s enough of an angle for her to see a row of large vats along one side of the room—they look like fermentation tanks, but Diana suspects that they must contain something much deadlier than alcohol—along with all sorts of tools and odd technological paraphernalia that she can’t even begin to identify.

There only appears to be one man inside the room, and he’s standing with his back to Diana, gun aimed directly at the door.

Diana remains perfectly still, watching, but nothing happens at first. Things seem to have quieted down, but what that means, Diana couldn’t say. After some time, the doorknob to the lab begins to turn, only to stop when the man inside responds by firing off a shot.

It’s only about thirty seconds until the door then bursts open, shots are fired, and the man in the center of the room crumples to the ground, dead.

Three figures sweep into the room, two men and, to Diana’s surprise, a woman. They’re in the process of clearing the room, making sure it’s empty, when Diana notices a slight movement just below her.

There _is_ another guard, hiding in the shadows.

There isn’t enough time for Diana to fully think things through, as the unnoticed guard takes aim at the intruders, but— The enemy of my enemy, and all that.

Diana punches through the vent, destroying it, and jumps down into the room. The German is the quickest to react, and he whirls and shoots two quick bullets at her. Even at this close range, she blocks them easily with her gauntlets, and then brings her elbow down hard across his head, knocking him out cold.

Holding her hands up, Diana takes just one step out of the shadows before one of the other men shoots at her.

“Dernier, wait!” the woman calls out, but it’s no matter, and Diana blocks that bullet as well.

The three of them then simply stare at her, mouths agape.

Diana smiles, in what she hopes is a non-threatening way. “Please don’t shoot at me again,” she says calmly. “I believe we are on the same side.”

The woman is the first to recover. “Right. _You_ ,” she says, pointing at Diana, “stay exactly where you are.” She turns to the two men and tells them, “Now then, lets get what we came for and then hurry up and get out of here.”

So they’re British, Diana thinks.

The men nod, and Diana watches as they begin to move about the room, searching through drawers and collecting papers. The woman comes over to stand in front of her, arms crossed. Diana says nothing as the woman looks her up and down; she seems almost angry, though Diana can’t understand why.

“Did you kill him?” the woman asks, nodding her head towards the unconscious German.

Diana shakes her head. “No, he is alive,” she replies.

The woman goes over to him and takes his gun before checking his pulse and binding his wrists together in rope.

She returns in front of Diana, but Diana’s attention is then drawn to one of the men, the one who’d shot at her, who now appears to be rigging up explosives in each corner of the room.

Diana raises an eyebrow, but again, says nothing.

“We are all set,” the man says, with what sounds like a French accent.

The woman nods, but doesn’t take her eyes off Diana. “Come and get the prisoner, then.”

The men seem to waver, staring wide-eyed at Diana, until the woman looks over her shoulder at them to see what the delay is.

“No, not _her_ ,” the woman says. “I don’t know _what_ she is. Get the HYDRA agent. He’s unconscious.”

“Right, right,” the second man says—this one sounds American, and Diana wonders who this motley group is—and they both hurry over to haul the German man upright.

Hydra. Diana mulls over the word. Is that the name of the group she’s been tracking? She’d never actually picked up their name.

The woman looks Diana over again, her eyes narrowing. “Do you even have a weapon on you?” she demands.

Diana hesitates, but something tells her that transparency is her best bet.

“I have a sword,” she tells them. One of the men laughs, thinking it a joke, but he stops immediately when she pulls it out from beneath her long pea coat. She finishes, explaining, “I don’t like guns.”

“Bloody hell, they’ve made another one. I can’t _bloody_ believe them.”

The woman is pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose, right at the corners of her closed eyes.

“Do put that thing away, please,” she adds, waving her other hand in Diana’s direction. With a deep sigh, she drops her hands to her sides and straightens her spine. “Right, you’re coming with us, then,” she tells Diana. “And we’d better get a move on, before this whole place blows up.”

* * *

“May I ask where we are going?”

Diana has been following along with this odd multi-national trio as they walk deeper and deeper into the forest, their footsteps muffled by the snow-covered ground. She could very easily go off on her own, Diana knows, and they’d have no way of stopping her. But these people seem to know more than she does, regarding this Hydra group, and she can see no harm in trying to get some of this information for herself, even if it means letting them dictate the terms. For now, at least.

Plus, Diana has to admit that it’s mostly been quite lonely these past years—fighting from deep within the shadows, on her own.

Still, she is curious as to where they are going, and who these people are. The woman has been leading the way—Diana doesn’t know their names, she realizes, except for the man called Dernier—but there’s been no talk at all for at least the past ten minutes. Not since the echoing sound of the explosions at the warehouse behind them.

“We are going to rendezvous with the rest of our team,” the woman responds, and it’s clear that that is all Diana is going to get from her for now.

It’s another few minutes of walking before Diana speaks again, tired of listening to the two men sigh and grunt with the effort of carrying the dead weight of the still-unconscious German.

She stops walking and turns to them, struggling along at the rear, and asks, “Would you like some assistance with the prisoner?”

They too pause, and glance over Diana’s shoulder, looking eagerly to the woman for permission. The woman smiles in sympathy.

“Yes, all right,” she says. “We’re almost there, but come on, let’s swap.”

She passes her knapsack to the-man-not-named-Dernier, and it looks reasonably heavy as well, but he still seems grateful. Diana considers simply hefting the unconscious man over her shoulder, but she isn’t sure how such an action would be received. They’ve seen her block bullets and knock the man out cold, but nonetheless… Diana has learned that there is something about an unequivocal demonstration of her strength that, when there is no immediate danger, seems to put people off.

Instead, she pulls one of the man’s arms around her shoulders (they’d untied his wrists and bound his ankles instead), taking most of his weight, but she allows the woman to put herself at his other side. It’s somewhat awkward, with the difference between them in height, but they make it work. And even with their new burden, they continue to lead the way. If the woman notices how effortless this is for Diana, she makes no comment.

Sure enough, before too much longer, they reach a small clearing in the woods, where several jeeps are parked. Diana makes a quick count of four other men milling about.

“Carter?”

A man stands by one of the vehicles, his hands on his hips, eyeing the whole lot of them.

The woman—Carter, apparently—clears her throat.

“Colonel,” she greets. “We’ve got a prisoner, here. He was helping to guard one of the labs. Unclear how much he might know, but it can’t hurt to have him.”

The colonel’s gaze strays curiously to Diana. “And…”

Carter clears her throat. “Might I have a word with you, Colonel?” There’s an edge of anger to her voice that Diana doesn’t understand.

Without waiting for a response, she steps away from the prisoner, leaving him entirely to Diana, and walks a little ways apart from the rest of them. Still, it’s not all that difficult to hear them.

“How could you do it again, Colonel? I mean, really. How could you do it again and not _tell_ me?”

“Carter, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I really don’t know what in the world you’re talking about.”

“ _Look_ at her!” Carter gestures angrily in Diana’s direction. “She was shot at multiple times from very close range, and there’s not a scratch on her. She blocked them with, I don’t even bloody know, her _wrists_ or something. And she knocked that man out with one blow, and he’s _still_ out cold.” She pauses, and then— “Oh, and she’s got a goddamned sword!”

The colonel turns slowly to stare at Diana. He begins to walk back towards Diana and doesn’t take his eyes off her, even as he tells Carter, “We didn’t do it again, Carter. As you well know, we can’t anymore.”

He looks Diana up and down, unabashedly curious.

Carter storms back and demands of Diana, “Who are you, then? Who made you like this? And who are you with?”

Diana doesn’t think that ‘My mother sculpted me from clay’ is quite the answer this woman is looking for.

“My name is Diana Prince. No one made me like this; I simply am. I do not work with anyone, but I have been doing what I can to fight against the Axis powers and bring peace back to this land.”

Diana notices, then, how everyone else around her has gone silent and is mutely staring at her.

A thought strikes her.

She looks to the woman, Carter, and asks, “You are British, yes? Do you know Etta Candy? She works for your Home Office. Get in touch with her, if you doubt my make-up or my intentions. Etta will vouch for me.”

Carter and the colonel look at Diana, then each other, and then back to Diana.

“Bloody hell,” Carter murmurs with a sigh. She shakes her head and continues, almost to herself, “Honestly, where on Earth has Etta been hiding a second bloody super-soldier?”

“I am no one’s soldier,” Diana corrects her. “And I am not the second of anything. If you think there is someone else out there like me, then you are wrong.”

* * *

“Bonsoir, Mademoiselle. Est-ce que cette place est occupée?”

Diana looks to her left and has to clench her jaw to stop from smiling in recognition.

“Non, c’est à vous,” she replies in French. Diana gestures to the empty seat, and Peggy Carter sits down beside her.

Neither one of them says anything else at first, as the musicians take their places on stage. But under cover of the low chatter around them and the sounds of the musicians warming up, Peggy soon speaks again, switching to English—there’s no way to be sure, but anyone around them who may be listening is reasonably likely to only speak French or German.

“Have you been following me?” Peggy asks under her breath.

Without turning her head away from the stage in front, Diana replies, “I will remind you that it is you who entered after I did. So no, I am not following you. But I suspect that we are both here because we are each following him.” She angles her chin ever so slightly forwards, towards the German officer sitting four rows ahead of them.

“Who, me?” Peggy asks with feigned innocence. “I’m just here for the music. Wagner’s a real talent, you know.”

Diana has to suppress a grin, but she is spared from responding when the conductor walks out across the stage and the concert begins.

An hour later, Diana and Peggy sit together at a bustling café, after their observations of Captain Schmidt failed to produce any new intelligence. The café is mostly full of Germans, but such is life in German-occupied Paris. And other than a few leering looks and suggestive comments, the men leave Diana and Peggy alone; the two of them are less conspicuous together than either one of them would have been alone.

What had begun as a comparison of their notes on Schmidt has now turned to trading broader war stories.

“That was _you_?” Peggy asks. She leans forward, placing both elbows on the table between them. “We’d been hearing all kinds of rumors about you, but no one could say who you were.”

Diana shrugs. “I have helped where and when I can,” she says. It’s not false modesty; it simply never feels like enough.

“But that’s not just any light help,” Peggy insists. She looks surreptitiously around them, but, satisfied that no one is listening, she continues in a whisper, “You were the one to first set up a route through the Pyrenees, for refugees and stranded pilots?”

“I did not set up the route,” Diana asserts. “Goat herders have long used the trail. I merely learned of it and helped guide others over to Spain.”

“Right, of course.” Peggy leans back with an amused scoff. “Not a big deal at all. Just a light stroll into Spain. With the goats.”

Diana has to smile at Peggy’s description. “Essentially so,” she agrees with a wink, and Peggy laughs.

It feels like such a long time since Diana has heard anyone really laugh. She closes her eyes at the sound, relishing it.

Opening her eyes again, she finds Peggy staring at her with a look of open fascination and curiosity gracing her features. Diana stares back, equally captivated.

“But now you’re here,” Peggy comments eventually.

At that, Diana’s mood sobers, and she breaks her eyes away from Peggy’s stare. “Yes,” she says. “My route was discovered, and the ambushes grew to be too many.”

She’d saved as many as she could, but… She takes a long moment to remember those who’d died while in her care.

Diana continues, explaining, “Others maintain different escape routes, but I hoped that I could find some new way to contribute. I’d been hearing rumors about this experimental weapons program, so I came north to look into it.”

Peggy’s gaze strays downwards to land on Diana’s wrists, and Diana can only assume that Peggy must be remembering the first time they’d met.

“You came to look into it. All on your own,” Peggy murmurs, almost to herself. She meets Diana’s eyes again and asks, “And you’re still not going to tell me who you really are?”

Diana smiles. “Trust me,” she says. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

Peggy sighs, dissatisfied, but doesn’t protest. She looks down at her watch. “Oh, I have to go,” she says. “And you should too. It’s not long until curfew.”

They stand up together and wordlessly walk outside.

“Until next time, then,” Diana says with a soft smile.

Peggy huffs out a brief snort of laughter. “I suppose so,” she agrees. “Until next time.”

They nod to each other, and then walk off into the night.

* * *

‘Next time,’ it turns out, isn’t nearly so pleasant.

“Agent Carter? Look at me, Peggy. Focus on my voice and look at me.”

Peggy is leaning heavily against a tree, as though propping herself up. Diana had been a decent ways away when she heard the gunshots, and she’s not sure how long it had taken her to find this spot, amidst evidence of a firefight. It’s a good location to set up an ambush, with a hidden vantage point over the curve in the road from the hill rising up to the west. Diana had approached warily, but it was soon clear that Peggy was the only one still there.

She’s very pale, and when Peggy’s brown eyes blink slowly before focusing on Diana’s face, Diana can see that her pupils are dilated. Diana presses her fingers to Peggy’s skin just below her jaw and feels for her pulse, rapid and weak.

“Where is your team?” Diana asks. She can’t quite remember the name of their group so she guesses, “Your… Howlers?”

In spite of the situation, Peggy smiles. “Howling Commandos,” she corrects, “but close enough. I told them I was fine and that they should continue on with the mission, following the German convoy.”

“You do not look fine,” Diana accuses.

To her credit, Peggy doesn’t try to bluff her way past Diana’s concerns, as she leans her head back and closes her eyes. “I was a lot more fine when they left,” she acknowledges, her voice now straining in apparent pain.

A thought strikes Diana— “Which way did they go?” she asks.

Peggy blinks at her, but doesn’t seem to understand the question.

“Your team, Peggy,” Diana explains calmly, with an even cadence. “Which way did they go along the road? North or south?”

Peggy appears to think that over, but her eyes flutter closed before she comes up with an answer.

“I know this is hard, right now,” Diana goes on, “but I need you to focus, Agent.” Diana stretches out a hand to cup around Peggy’s cheek. “Your men may be in danger.”

That last line, or perhaps the physical touch to her face, is enough to get Peggy to open her eyes again and stare at Diana. “North,” she finally declares, and Diana lets her shoulders sag. She nods, satisfied.

Then she turns her full attention to Peggy herself.

The most obvious problem is the bullet hole in Peggy’s left shoulder.

And if Diana hadn’t already figured out that Peggy is in shock, the fact that Peggy seems to have done absolutely nothing to try to stem the bleeding would be yet another clue.

She tries to be gentle as she pries Peggy away from the tree trunk in order to look for an exit wound, but Peggy still releases an audible gasp of pain. The bullet went right through, at least, and it looks possible that it may not have hit bone, which is quite lucky.

It’s only when she settles Peggy back against the tree that Diana notices Peggy’s awkward stance—her arms akimbo, with elbows pushed outwards, and… Diana scans down Peggy’s body and somehow only then sees the way that Peggy is pressing both hands, covered in blood, against the right side of her waist.

Diana crouches down to get a closer look and urges softly, “Let me see,” but Peggy seems reluctant to take any pressure off.

It’s then that an explosion can be heard, off to the south somewhere.

Peggy’s movements are slow, but she looks over in that direction, and then down at Diana.

“That was my doing,” confirms Diana. “A munitions factory.”

Diana then eases one of Peggy’s hands slightly out of the way, so she can assess the wound. It’s hard to tell with all the blood, but it seems shallow; more than just a graze, but not nearly as bad as it could have been.

She does what she can to wrap both wounds with gauze and bandages from her pack, but it’s not enough. “You need stitches,” Diana declares. “I have equipment to help you, but not here with me. I will carry you.”

Diana hadn’t been sure how much Peggy had even been aware of her movements for the past few minutes as Diana had tended to her, but her eyes come into slightly better focus at Diana’s concluding pronouncement.

Still, all Peggy can manage is a bewildered, “…What?”

With only a few additional words of warning—“All right, here we go.”—Diana reaches down to scoop Peggy into her arms. She cradles her as tightly as she can, keeping pressure against Peggy’s right side.

And then she begins to run.

* * *

By the time Diana is done cleaning and bandaging Peggy’s side and then sewing up her shoulder, Peggy is somewhat drunk.

She’d refused the whiskey that Diana had offered her at first, only to change her mind once the needle had begun piercing through her flesh.

“This is good,” Peggy comments, eyeing the bottle in her hands. Though certainly not sober, she has yet to begin slurring her words at all, even as her rate of speech has noticeably slowed. “Where’d you manage to find good alcohol?”

Diana assesses her handiwork, six neat stitches to close up the back of Peggy’s left arm, before she responds.

“I do not drink much,” she says absently as she walks around the table that Peggy is sitting on to continue examining Peggy’s state; she likes the taste of some alcohol, she supposes, but it doesn’t affect her like it does others. “Sometimes people give me gifts as thanks for something I’ve done for them. I used to try to turn them away, but it seems to make them happy, to give me what they can.”

She presses lightly against the bandage covering Peggy’s waist, checking to make sure it’s secure. Peggy reacts instinctively, swatting at Diana’s hands to push her away, but the action must pull at her wounds because she inhales a sharp wince of pain.

“Shit, that hurts,” she murmurs with a grimace, before taking another swig from the bottle.

Satisfied that she’s done all she can, Diana finds a clean shirt for Peggy to wear. She then reaches out to help Peggy down from the table, and they both settle into chairs opposite each other.

Diana angles her chin at the bottle in Peggy’s hand and adds, “I’ve had that particular bottle for quite a while, now. I thought you might appreciate it.”

Peggy hums affirmatively before looking again at the bottle. She squints at it. “Are you telling me this label is real?” she asks. “That you used…”—Peggy pauses to attempt some mental math—“…thirty-odd-year-old whiskey as an antiseptic and then just let me swig it from the bottle? And on a related note, are you _insane_?”

Diana smirks and shrugs.

Peggy can only shake her head. “Right, well.” She declares, “Then now that you’re done sewing me back together, I don’t care that you don’t drink much, you’ll have to share the rest of this with me,” and holds the bottle out in front of her.

Although whiskey isn’t a liquor that she much appreciates, Diana obliges, reaching out to grab the bottle and take a healthy gulp.

Peggy watches Diana with keen interest, as they pass the whiskey back and forth between them. Even as she lists slightly to the side, there’s a surprisingly sharp focus to Peggy’s gaze. She seems to have recovered well from the shock, at least.

There’s a _heat_ , somehow, to Peggy’s gaze. One that Diana doesn’t quite understand. But she doesn’t shy away from Peggy’s silent stare, and she watches back with equal interest.

“I can’t believe you bloody _carried_ me here,” Peggy comments after a stretch of time.

Her eyes trail down to sweep over Diana’s biceps as she curls her arm upwards to take another drink of whiskey, and—

 _Oh_.

Oh, now Diana might understand, after all.

Intimate relations between women aren’t generally accepted in Man’s World, Diana has learned. But nor are they nonexistent.

This is certainly an interesting development, if she’s right. Today isn’t the first time that Diana has noticed how attractive Peggy is, both physically and intellectually.

Diana finishes swallowing and hands the bottle back.

“You weren’t heavy,” she finally replies with a smile.

Peggy’s short laugh turns into a hiccough. But the heat is gone, then, replaced with a look of thoughtful consideration. “And even if I weighed five times more, it still wouldn’t have bothered you, would it?” Peggy asks.

Diana doesn’t respond this time.

After a moment, Peggy goes on. She says, her voice incredibly soft, “I knew someone else like that, once. He died.”

Diana’s gaze softens. She’s figured out by now that Peggy must have known Captain America; that, the first time she and Peggy had met, Peggy must have thought that Diana was like him.

“I am sorry,” Diana replies solemnly. Peggy takes another drink.

Diana continues, saying, “I too once knew a special man. He was not like Captain Rogers, in terms of physical strength. But he was brave, my Steve, and he was kind. And his death helped save hundreds more.”

Peggy doesn’t question how Diana knows of Steve Rogers—everyone in this war must know of him, Diana supposes. But Peggy nods in a shared understanding of each of their losses.

“When did he die, your Steve?”

And… Diana doesn’t fully know why… Maybe the whiskey has had more of an effect on her than usual; maybe she’s tired of always hiding, and Peggy’s inebriation gives her cover; maybe she just wants to give Peggy something else to focus on, instead of her sadness.

Whatever the reason, Diana feels a near-uncontrollable urge to tell the truth. She looks to see if her lasso has gotten tangled around her, somehow, but no. The urge is her own, not compelled by Hestia.

So she gives in to it.

“Twenty-six years ago,” she says. “During the First World War.”

Peggy simply blinks at her at first, long and slow. Then she looks down at the whiskey bottle in her hand, now close to empty.

And then she laughs out loud.

“I’m sorry, but am I even more pissed than I’d thought, or…?”

“You heard me correctly,” Diana verifies, smiling softly. Her heart is pounding unnaturally quickly, but she continues on. “I actually first met Etta Candy in 1918, when she was the secretary for Steve Trevor, an American pilot assigned to British Intelligence.”

It all comes pouring out, then. Peggy doesn’t interrupt. She just leans back in her chair and listens, with the glassy-eyed focus of intoxication, as Diana explains about the Amazons, Themyscira, and Ares.

Despite Peggy’s clear attempts to remain alert, however, there seems to be lulling quality to Diana’s voice; it doesn’t take all that long before the toll of exhaustion, pain, and whiskey finally get to Peggy, and her eyes begin to drift closed.

Once Peggy falls asleep, Diana lifts her carefully from the chair and moves her over to a cot in the corner of the room, covering her with a blanket.

She then busies herself with cleaning up her makeshift medical clinic. She should go and track down Peggy’s Commandos, Diana knows, to let them know what’s happened.

But not quite yet.

She’s not quite ready, yet, to pierce this bubble, where she’s found an unexpected feeling of safety. She feels like she _should_ be panicking over telling Peggy the truth. Should be, maybe, but isn’t. Diana doesn’t know whether Peggy will even remember their conversation, later, but she somehow isn’t concerned.

Diana thinks she’s found an ally, in Peggy Carter.

Maybe even a friend.

She thinks back over the various ways that Peggy has looked at her.

Who knows, maybe even something else.

* * *

It’s not until several months later, in London, that they run into each other again.

She’s just come from visiting with Etta for tea. Now, walking along the Thames, Diana makes a point of keeping her head down—she’s never much liked London, even after living there for years after the war, and she can’t help the latent worry that someone will recognize her from back then, not having aged a day.

So it startles her somewhat badly when someone calls out very loudly, “Diana Prince!”

She clenches her jaw and comes to a sudden stop, causing the person just behind her to crash against her shoulder, frown at Diana in vague confusion and mutter a low curse, and then move on while rubbing at his own shoulder.

Diana exhales and releases the tension in her jaw when she turns to glance behind her and sees Peggy Carter approaching.

“Good lord, you move quickly,” Peggy grumbles as she catches up to where Diana is standing. “I happened to see you a little way back, and I’ve been chasing you for ages but was only falling farther behind, and you’ve got—”

Peggy pauses and clears her throat before finishing, half under her breath as a slight flush graces her cheeks, “Well, you’ve got very long legs.”

Diana blinks. She knows that Peggy is British, of course; knows that it is not at all odd for Peggy to be here in London. But it’s scarcely a minute ago that Diana’s mind had been fixed back in the 1920s, so Peggy’s appearance is somehow bewildering.

“Agent Carter,” is the best she can manage in greeting, after a moment.

“Yes. That is my name,” Peggy confirms. She’s all businesslike, now. She asks, “Would you come with me, please?” and then walks off without waiting for Diana to reply.

Diana simply watches her stride away for a moment, back in the direction she’d come from, and then follows.

They walk in silence for several minutes. Although Diana does know the city fairly well, she cannot tell where it is that they are going. Peggy ends up taking her to what appears to be a normal flat. Diana looks around the space where Peggy has brought her, eyeing the bare walls and stack of books on the floor next to a small sofa, and peeking her head towards an open doorway that leads into a kitchen.

“Do you live here?” she eventually asks curiously, as Peggy watches her, hands on her hips.

“When I’m in London, yes,” Peggy replies. “I haven’t been here all that long. My last place was bombed.”

Diana turns back to face Peggy with a smile. She says, teasing, “Peggy, you’ve brought me to your home? I’m honored.”

Peggy looks flustered at that. “I… Well. I just happened to see you, as I said before, and, you know, I wanted to talk to you.” Diana nods but doesn’t say anything else at first, and Peggy prattles on. “But not in the middle of the street, of course. And I didn’t know where to take you, but I also didn’t want you to know that I’d no idea where to take you, and of course now I’ve just gone and told you so anyway. But so I thought I could bring you here, and—”

“Peggy,” Diana interrupts.

Peggy immediately stops talking.

“You wanted to speak with me?” prompts Diana.

Peggy closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She rubs a hand over her face and exhales before opening her eyes again and staring at Diana.

The blush that is spreading across Peggy’s face is highly becoming, and Diana is tempted to tell her so, but she restrains herself—it would feel almost cruel to knowingly discomfit Peggy even more, when the agent is trying so clearly to gather herself.

“Yes,” Peggy eventually says with studied calm. “I wanted to speak with you.”

She reaches up and scratches absently at her left arm, and Diana interjects, “How is your shoulder, by the way? And your other wounds?”

Diana’s eyes trail across Peggy’s torso, and Peggy lets her hand drop back to her side.

“It’s healed well,” she says. “It’s been stiff and sore, of course, but has been feeling much better lately.” She adds, her tone heartfelt, “Thank you, Diana, for your help that day.”

“You are welcome.” Diana nods. “I am very glad I was there to help.”

“And, actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, not my shoulder, per se, but…”

Peggy pauses to take in another deep, fortifying breath. She continues, “Listen. I know that I was fairly out of it the last time that we saw each other, but, well, I am fairly certain that you told me that you’re a demi-goddess and the princess of a mythical race of warrior women. Would you care to elaborate on that?”

* * *

Diana isn’t sure if Peggy will show up.

Their last conversation had gone reasonably well, Diana thinks. By the time she’d left Peggy’s flat, Peggy had at least _wanted_ to believe Diana, even if she wasn’t 100% there. But she’d already seen enough of what Diana can do to not simply write her off as delusional.

Still, there may be too much distance to cross, between semi-believing Diana and actually responding to her note.

 _I’m going to Madrid next, to meet with some of my contacts. There’s a restaurant I adore there, called Casa Alberto, on_ _Calle de las Huertas_ _. I think you’d enjoy it as well. Next Friday, 20:00— Care to join me?_

_—Diana_

The decision to leave the note, which she’d slid under Peggy’s door just before she left London, had been a spontaneous one. Diana still hasn’t decided, yet, whether it was a good decision or not.

But then she looks up, and Peggy is standing in the doorway to the restaurant, looking around.

A wide grin spills across Diana’s face. She stands up and crosses over towards Peggy.

“Peggy, you came!” she greets the other woman happily. She leans down and, holding Peggy by the shoulders, she kisses Peggy lightly on both cheeks.

“Oh,” Peggy startles at Diana’s sudden close proximity. She reaches up to clasp briefly at Diana’s elbow, before letting go. She goes on, “Yes, well, I almost didn’t. But it turns out that MI5 has some business in Spain as well.”

“Lovely. Are you hungry? Come and eat.”

Without waiting for an answer, Diana draws Peggy’s hand into hers and pulls her over to their table.

By some kind of silent mutual agreement, they don’t talk about the war. Instead, they talk about books; they talk about the food; they talk about the places they’ve each been, around the world; they talk about Themyscira.

The heavier things are there, below the surface—the war, the stress, the suffering they witness every day—but for one night, they allow themselves a respite. It is probably the most pleasant meal Diana has had in quite some time.

After dinner, Diana takes Peggy to a small club she knows nearby. They sit with a bottle of wine between them—“Are you trying to get me drunk again?” “Why, have you gotten yourself shot again?”—listening to the music playing over the radio.

It takes Peggy longer than Diana would have thought it would, for her to notice that there are no men in the club.

But it’s clear, the very moment that she does realize. She’s no longer really listening to Diana, staring instead at a couple swaying together on the dance floor. One of them is dressed in more masculine garb, but there’s no doubt that they’re both women. Peggy’s eyes then sweep across the other parts of the room, fully taking in the rest of the scene for the first time.

“Even though Spain hasn’t declared war, a high proportion of the men have gone off to fight anyway, or they had to go into exile after the Civil War here,” Diana explains, drawing Peggy’s attention back to her. “Franco has tried to crack down on these sorts of places, of course, but people have gotten good at hiding.” She pauses and then adds, “I hope I haven’t offended you?”

“No!” Peggy replies quickly. “You haven’t, I—” Her attention is pulled back towards the women dancing. “Are all these women…?”

She doesn’t finish her question, but Diana can guess her meaning. “Many are likely only here for a night out with friends,” Diana responds.

Peggy turns back to Diana. She’s blushing, but working to maintain her cool. “I worked at Bletchley, you know, and I knew a few women like…” She gestures vaguely towards the dance floor. A thought then seems to occur to her, and she says, “And right, you grew up on an island with no men.”

Diana grins. “You believe me, then?”

Peggy sighs and rolls her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what to believe. I mean, really. _Amazons_ ,” she scoffs. 

“I think you believe me, Peggy Carter,” Diana declares.

Peggy meets Diana’s gaze and smiles softly; she doesn’t deny it.

“Will you dance with me?” Diana asks suddenly.

Her cheeks flushing a bright red, Peggy stammers out, “I… What?”

“I understand if you are too uncomfortable,” Diana says, “but I would like to dance with you.”

Peggy takes that for the subtle challenge that it is.

She visibly clenches her jaw once, and then simply raises her hand into the air.

Grinning, Diana pushes to her feet and moves to take the offered hand, pulling Peggy up and over to the dance floor.

Diana leads, holding her left hand up and placing her right hand to Peggy’s waist, as they move slowly, in time with the music. No one appears to be paying them any particular attention, which Peggy seems to appreciate, and she grows less stiff with each successive step.

“Diana…?” Peggy begins, after they’ve been dancing in comfortable silence for a bit.

“Yes?”

“Are you… courting me?”

Diana smiles and turns her face to meet Peggy’s eyes, which appear curious more than anything else.

“Would it bother you if I were?” she asks.

Peggy considers this for a moment, as Diana keeps her expression open and clear.

“You know, I don’t think it would,” Peggy decides.

“That is good.” Diana pulls Peggy in just a little bit closer, and she leans to whisper in Peggy’s ear, “Because I am definitely courting you.”

With a laugh, Peggy then steps in even closer and angles her head to rest against Diana’s shoulder.

At the end of the night, they walk hand in hand as Diana takes Peggy back to where Peggy is staying.

Their pace slows as they get closer to the inn.

After clearing her throat, Peggy asks, her words coming out hurriedly, “Would you like to come to my room, just to say good night?”

Diana squeezes Peggy’s hand. “I would like that,” she says.

Once they’re behind the closed door to Peggy’s room, Peggy exhales. She’d been growing increasingly skittish during their walk, but now there’s a confidence to her gaze, as she watches Diana.

Their eyes lock together, and Peggy asks, “May I kiss you?”

Even though she’s been the driving force behind most of this evening, Diana feels her heart skip a beat at the question.

She nods, not taking her eyes off of Peggy’s, and Peggy steps forward.

Stopping not even a foot in front of Diana, Peggy hesitates. But Diana regains her poise, and she reaches out for Peggy’s waist, just like when they’d been dancing, with her left hand now coming up to cradle the back of Peggy’s neck.

She leans in, but stops with a hair’s breadth of space between their lips, wanting to be sure that this is what Peggy really wants.

It’s Peggy, then, who at last closes the final distance between them. Her arms wrap around Diana’s back, and her lips are soft and sweet with the lingering taste of red wine.

They stand pressed together, kissing, for maybe a minute—or maybe closer to five—before they slowly pull apart.

Peggy keeps her eyes closed at first.

“Good night,” Diana says, her voice hushed. She leans to press one more kiss to Peggy’s temple, and then murmurs into Peggy’s skin, “Thank you for a truly wonderful night.”

With that, before she can get any bad ideas into her head, she turns and leaves the room.

* * *

“Is this your idea of a bloody _date_?”

Peggy sounds incredulous at the idea, but Diana only laughs.

“It’s somewhat romantic, no?” she counters, ducking the fist that comes flying towards her head. “Fighting fascists together?”

Diana punches the Nazi in front of her in the face, sending him flying, before she whirls around to take on the next one.

Behind her, Peggy pauses for a minute to simply watch Diana’s flowing movement, mesmerized.

At Peggy’s continued silence, Diana glances back over her shoulder. She smirks at the blazing look in Peggy’s eyes.

“It’s _something_ , all right,” Peggy finally murmurs under her breath, before shaking her head and rejoining the fray.

* * *

She’s fine.

Peggy is _fine_ , and Diana’s heart can stop beating so fast, and—

“What in the name of Athena were you thinking??”

The question bursts out of her, harsher and angrier than she’d meant it to.

Peggy turns to look at Diana. Peggy is flushed, breathing hard, with an exuberant glow that begins to wilt just a little under Diana’s glare.

“What was I thinking?” she repeats, seeming confused at Diana’s tone. “I was thinking that he was getting away, and I had to stop him.” She tilts her chin upwards and declares, “And I did, now didn’t I.”

Instead of feeling reassured, Diana finds that her anger is only rising. She clenches both her jaw and her fists, practically spitting out, “And does the fact that you were running headlong towards a man with a gun mean _nothing_ to you?”

Peggy still doesn’t understand.

“Oh I’m sorry, have you forgotten that there’s a _war_ on? _All_ the men have guns! And if they’re shooting at me, then I dare say I must be in the right place.”

Peggy actually laughs a little; Diana thinks she might be sick.

Her temper building inside her, Diana chooses to stalk off before she can say something she might regret.

She throws a contemptuous look at the man moaning on the floor as he tries to hold his shattered knee. Without breaking stride, she reaches down and grabs him by the collar, lifting him into the air with one hand and binding her lasso around him with the other. She’ll come back to him for questioning later, but with her current mindset, she’d likely kill him before she got anything useful out of him.

She hoists him up and leaves him dangling from one of the hooks in the hallway—meant for coats _without_ people still attached, but it looks sturdy enough to hold him—and continues on out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Peggy trails after her, but Diana doesn’t slow down.

She doesn’t know where she’s going. Her pace is aggressive but directionless, since she can’t seem to remember the layout of the large suite of rooms in this HYDRA-owned building—hiding in plain sight, right in the middle of London, daringly enough—and she doesn’t respond to Peggy.

It’s not long before Peggy speaks again, clearly frustrated. “Diana, what is wrong with you? Are you angry that I got him, instead of you?”

Diana whirls around, taking Peggy by surprise; the smaller woman yelps and only just manages not to crash into Diana.

“Peggy he _shot_ at you, from close range,” Diana practically shouts. “And you don’t even care. What if his aim had been just a little better?”

“I get shot at nearly every day!” Peggy protests just as loudly. “But I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

Diana has to stop herself from growling in exasperation.

“You are very much _not_ helping, right now,” is all she can manage before she turns again to continue marching away. Away from Peggy, away from the HYDRA agent, away from the spot where Peggy had nearly—

Peggy lunges just in time to catch Diana by the arm. She’s not strong enough to actually hold Diana in place, but Diana stops nonetheless.

She closes her eyes and, with teeth clenched, breathes deeply in and out through her nose. Peggy doesn’t let go of Diana as she comes around to face her, stroking her thumb lightly back and forth across Diana’s wrist, just above the gauntlet.

In spite of everything, Diana feels herself calm down, just a little.

Peggy speaks softly, then, as though trying not to spook a nervous animal, “What is going on, Diana? Help me understand what you’re thinking, in that beautiful head of yours.”

It’s several long, silent moments before Diana can reply.

“He could have killed you,” Diana says, almost a whisper. She opens her eyes and looks directly into Peggy’s. “He could have killed you, so easily.”

Peggy opens her mouth to speak, but Diana shakes her head and continues, her voice louder now. “I know that we are at war,” she says. “And I know that your work is dangerous, of course I know that. But he could have killed you, and I wasn’t close enough to stop him. Human lives are so mortal, and _fragile_ , and I was too far away to keep you safe, and… He could have _killed_ you, Peggy, and I was powerless to do anything about it.”

She pulls her gaze up and away, closing her eyes again. After a beat, she can feel Peggy’s warm palm against her cheek.

“I’m all right,” Peggy says, her voice now gentle with understanding. “He didn’t kill me, or hurt me in any way. I take risks sometimes, but not heedlessly. Not _too_ heedlessly, at least. I do value my own life, very much. And I may be mortal, but I plan on living a good long while, yet.”

Diana exhales and nods her head, but keeps her eyes closed.

“Will you look at me?” Peggy asks.

Diana does, blinking a few times, and when their eyes are locked on each other, Peggy repeats, “I am all right. I’m sorry for upsetting you.” She offers a quick, unassuming smile, and adds, “Honestly, I didn’t realize you cared quite so much.”

Diana can still feel her heart racing; still feel the panicked adrenaline humming beneath her skin. She says nothing at first, but then responds, “Neither did I.”

With that, she leans in and artlessly crashes her mouth into Peggy’s. Peggy has to take a step back, with the force of Diana, but Diana reaches an arm around Peggy’s shoulders to steady her.

It doesn’t take long for Peggy to respond. She pulls Diana in even closer and meets Diana’s sudden passion with her own fervor.

Diana slips her tongue into Peggy’s mouth before angling her head to trail her lips along Peggy’s jaw and down her neck. Peggy sighs in pleasure and then moves backwards at Diana’s urging, letting Diana guide her until her back hits the wall behind her.

It’s not enough, Diana thinks, as she rakes her teeth lightly across Peggy’s shoulder and feels the response of Peggy’s fingers digging into the armor at her back. She brings her mouth back up to Peggy’s, but it’s not enough.

She needs to feel Peggy’s skin, needs to feel the warmth of her body, alive and well.

“May I…?” She pulls minutely away from Peggy, as her fingers pick at the base of Peggy’s shirt, starting to pull it out from beneath her belt.

Peggy leans her head back against the wall with a soft moan. “I don’t know precisely what you’re asking,” she says breathlessly, “but whatever it is, yes, go on.”

Diana grins. She kisses Peggy again and pulls at her shirt until she can reach underneath the hem and place her open palms against the warm skin of Peggy’s lower back.

Soon Diana’s mouth is trailing downwards again, and Peggy reaches to undo the buttons of her own shirt to give Diana’s lips and hands easier access. She reaches a notably sensitive spot along Peggy’s collarbone, causing Peggy to let out a deep groan.

“Wait… Wait, hold on.”

It takes several seconds for the words to register in Diana’s brain, but as soon as they do, she releases her hold on Peggy like she’s been burned and hurries to back away.

“No, _no_ , come back here.”

Peggy’s arms shoot out to grab onto Diana’s retreating form and pull her back in by the front of her shirt.

Diana puts her hand up to brace herself against the wall, holding herself at arm’s length.

They’re both breathing deeply, and Diana has to close her eyes for a moment when Peggy leans forward to practically mold herself against Diana’s front.

“You said to stop,” Diana murmurs into Peggy’s hair, holding herself perfectly still, even as Peggy lifts a foot to wrap her ankle around Diana’s calf.

“I did no such thing,” Peggy counters. Diana opens her mouth to argue the point, but Peggy speaks over her, continuing, “I asked you to hold on just a tick, because…”

Diana feels Peggy draw back slightly and then there’s a hand against her chin, guiding Diana’s face into meeting Peggy’s gaze. With one hand still gripping tightly to the front of Diana’s shirt, Peggy tugs her down into another kiss.

She then whispers against Diana’s lips, “Because I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a HYDRA building, with a HYDRA agent dangling from a coat hook not even 50 yards away. So do me a favor and go and deal with him. And then, Miss Prince…” Peggy trails off once more, leaning in to kiss Diana and then suck Diana’s lower lip into her mouth.

Diana moans as Peggy concludes, “And then I’d like you to take me home and take me to bed.”

In response, Diana doesn’t think she’s ever moved so quickly.

* * *

That first time, Diana had taken her time with Peggy, leaving her a naked, quivering, happily exhausted, mess by the time they’d finished.

But sometimes they don’t have that luxury. Sometimes the best they can manage is something furtive and quick.

Peggy’s in a mood, today.

She normally lets Diana take the lead, but not this time. They’d barely finished catching up, before Peggy was on her.

Now Diana stands propped against the wall, with Peggy down on her knees in front of her, and _oh_ , Peggy has gotten _very_ good at this. It takes real effort for Diana to not pull too tightly at Peggy’s hair, to not make too much noise, to not lose control…

She’s focusing so much on keeping quiet—the walls of this inn do not seem particularly thick—that it actually catches Diana by surprise when Peggy draws her first orgasm out of her.

But Peggy’s not done with her, yet. She wipes her sleeve across her mouth and chin and then rises to her feet in order to push and pull Diana over onto the bed, all without a word spoken in exchange.

It’s not the most comfortable of beds, but it’ll do. Standing by the footboard, Peggy strips efficiently out of her clothes, before crawling over Diana wearing nothing but a fierce and determined look behind her eyes.

Afterwards, in the dark, they lie together in bed.

Peggy is subdued now, curled into Diana’s side.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Diana asks softly, stroking her fingers up and down Peggy’s bare back.

Peggy doesn’t move, and Diana begins to wonder if she’s fallen asleep, before Peggy murmurs a simple, “No,” in reply.

Diana has to tamp down her disappointment, but outwardly, she doesn’t react, as she continues caressing Peggy’s skin.

“All right,” she says. She shifts slightly, so she can kiss Peggy on the forehead, and then she settles back into the mattress.

Diana herself has almost fallen asleep when Peggy speaks again.

“It’s this war, you know,” Peggy says. “All this death. Every time I see you, I can’t help but wonder… I can’t help but wonder if it’ll be the last time.”

Any platitudes Diana might think about uttering would fall flat, she knows. So she doesn’t bother. Instead, she simply wraps her arms tighter around Peggy’s frame; it feels so small, somehow, in this moment.

Peggy hugs her back, and after they lie together like that for a bit, entwined as tightly as they can be, Diana declares, “At least one more time. I promise that I’ll see you at least one more time.”

It’s a promise that she may not be able to keep, and they both know it.

But it becomes their refrain, over the next few months.

Each time they see each other, even if only for a few shared moments… _At least one more time_.

* * *

They don’t say that they love each other.

In war, that feels like one luxury they can’t afford.

* * *

Diana is in Italy when it happens.

It doesn’t quite feel real.

She hadn’t heard the actual announcement over the radio, but as soon as it comes through, it’s all anyone is talking about.

The war in Europe is over. Germany has surrendered.

Several weeks pass, after VE Day, before Diana manages to find Peggy again.

Well, it’s Peggy who finds her.

Diana is having dinner at a small tavern and doesn’t pay attention when the door opens and someone new enters.

She doesn’t even register that the ‘someone new’ is standing at the edge of her table until she speaks.

“You’re a difficult woman to track down, Diana Prince.”

Diana recognizes the voice and is already smiling when she finally looks up. With an inarticulate sound of joy, she jumps to her feet, her chair clattering over behind her, and moves out from behind the table.

The other people in the tavern can only smile when Peggy releases a squeal of surprise as Diana wraps her up in her arms and lifts her right off the floor.

Such reunions are common, these days, and so no one blinks an eye when Diana, still holding Peggy tightly, presses a series of hard kisses against the side of Peggy’s face—her temple, her cheek, her jaw, the very corner of her mouth.

“Well,” Peggy says, looking flustered, once Diana finally puts her down. “It’s good to see you too.”

The warmth in her eyes tells Diana that she truly means it, and Diana grins. She reaches for Peggy’s hands and pulls her down into a chair before righting her own and sitting.

“How did you find me?” Diana asks, taking Peggy’s hands back in her own.

Peggy shrugs. “It turns out,” she says, “that there aren’t all that many women who fit the description of, ‘travels around the continent helping refugees; seems like some kind of warrior-nurse.’” Diana laughs, and Peggy finishes, “You’ve left enough of an impression on everyone you meet that I was able to pick up your trail.”

They’ve been talking for nearly an hour when Diana admits, “I haven’t been sure where to go. Everyone is heading home, but… Well, there’s still so much to be done to help repair the wounds of war, and frankly, I do not really have a home, anymore.”

“Nonsense,” Peggy proclaims. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Diana simply stares at her, so Peggy answers her own question.

“I’ve come to take you home with me.”

* * *

They still don’t say that they love each other.

Diana is no longer sure why not.

But each time Diana thinks of saying something, there’s just a hint of a look in Peggy’s eyes that pushes the words back inside her mouth.

* * *

Diana comes back to Peggy’s flat, one day—they’ve been living together when they’re both in London, which still isn’t all that often—to find Peggy sitting on the couch, staring at something in her hands.

“Bonsoir, ma belle,” Diana says as she enters, but Peggy doesn’t respond.

She goes to sit next to Peggy, but the other woman doesn’t even notice her at all until Diana places a light hand against Peggy’s knee.

Peggy startles, jumping at the contact, and jerks her head over to stare at Diana.

She looks as though she’s seen a ghost.

“Are you all right?” Diana asks gently. “What have you got, there?”

Peggy’s eyes dart all across Diana’s face, then down to the object in her hand, and then back again at Diana.

“I—” She seems to immediately lose track of her thought, until she blinks and shakes her head. She continues, “I happened to run into Etta Candy, today, and she gave me this. Said she thought I would like it.”

Peggy holds the object out so Diana can see.

It’s a photograph. One that draws a huge smile out of Diana.

In it, she and Etta stand arm in arm, leaning against each other and laughing. Diana can no longer remember what it was that had amused them. Sami had been the one to take the photo, she does remember that.

Diana reaches to take the picture from Peggy’s hands. She no longer really notices the way that Peggy continues to stare at her.

“This was so long ago. It must have been…”

“1923,” Peggy supplies faintly. “That’s what Etta told me.”

Diana can’t stop smiling. “Yes, 1923. Etta looks so young!”

“And you look exactly the same.”

Something in Peggy’s voice catches Diana’s attention.

She lowers the photograph to her lap and turns to face Peggy.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, her tone carefully light.

It takes a long moment for Peggy to reply.

“No,” she says. “I’ve believed your story, for the most part—”

“It is not just a story,” Diana interrupts.

“I know. I _know_ it’s not, and I’ve believed you, like I just said. I mean, I’ve seen you toss a 25-stone man across a room like it was nothing, I’ve _believed_ you.”

“But?”

Peggy sighs and then looks back at the photograph; Diana has had to put it down on the coffee table in front of them, out of her hands, so that she doesn’t crumple it up in her fist and ruin it.

“But.” Peggy speaks the single word, and then pauses. “I hadn’t thought about…” Her voice trails off again.

Diana places her hand back on Peggy’s leg. She pleads, “Talk to me, Peggy, please.”

“You’re not going to age at all, are you?” she says quickly. “Not even a little bit, and not ever. You’re… You’re immortal, you’re a _god_ , you’re…” She runs a hand over her face and sighs again. “I simply hadn’t thought it all through, before. What it means to be with you, not just now, but thinking about the future, and…”

Peggy shifts her body, resettling herself on the couch, and Diana’s hand slides away.

When it becomes clear that Peggy isn’t going to finish her sentence, Diana isn’t sure how to respond. After a minute, all she can think to say is, “I am not a god.”

“Demi-goddess, then.” Peggy shrugs. “You’re still closer to being a god than you are to being mortal; to being someone like me.”

“You have known about my powers, and it never bothered you before,” Diana protests. “Now, suddenly, you see an old photograph, and you decide that I’m nothing like you?”

Peggy is shaking her head. “No… I… I’m not explaining myself well.” Then, seeming to change the topic completely, Peggy adds, “The SSR wants me to move to America.”

This pronouncement is followed by complete silence. Diana frowns at the abrupt shift in the conversation. She feels herself losing ground, somehow, without understanding why.

“They… What?” is all she can manage.

Peggy won’t look at Diana, staring intently at the floor. “My agency,” she clarifies. Unnecessarily—Diana knows what the SSR is; that’s not what’s thrown her. “Now that the war is over, they think that their efforts would be better spent back in the States. They want me to relocate to New York City. I was asked about it a few weeks ago.”

“All right…” Diana pauses. “Setting aside, for now, the fact that you’ve been keeping this to yourself for weeks… What does any of this have to do with whether or not I age?”

Since Diana is staring right at Peggy, she has a good view of the way that a red flush slowly creeps its way up Peggy’s neck and cheeks.

She doesn’t respond right away, but Diana waits her out.

“I think I should take them up on the offer,” Peggy eventually says. “I think it will be a good opportunity for me. And…” Here she stops to take in a deep breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, blocking out the world, and finishes, “And I don’t think that you should come with me.”

An even deeper silence follows _that_ pronouncement.

“I mean, not that I even know if you’d want to come with me,” Peggy babbles on, speaking rapidly. “We’ve never talked about plans, or where you might want to live. I know that you—”

“Peggy,” Diana interrupts, her voice sharp.

Peggy’s face is fully red, now, and she still won’t look at Diana.

Diana can feel her throat tightening, but she’s able to keep her voice level as she says, “You are ending our relationship and moving to America, to an entirely different continent… _because I do not age_?”

Well, she keeps her voice level until the last part of her question, with her voice rising in volume with each successive word by the end.

“No! Not _because_ of that.” Her voice sounds pained, as though it’s actually hurting her to say this, and she sneaks a quick glance at Diana, before looking away again. “I told you, I just… We cannot possibly _work_ , not in the long term. Can you imagine, people will go from asking if we’re roommates, to asking if I’m your _mother_. I’ll get older and older, and you simply… won’t.”

“So?” Diana challenges. “I don’t care about any of that.”

“Well maybe I do!”

Peggy’s entire body is rigid with tension, and Diana aches with wanting both to hug her and to push her away.

She sighs and rubs a hand over her face, before turning to mirror Peggy’s posture, looking straight ahead and away from each other.

Diana had been having a good day, today. She’s spent the past month tracking down children who had been evacuated out of the city during the war, and today she’d seen two young brothers reunited with their parents.

It had been such a good day.

The next question comes out of her with bitterness.

“Would Steve Rogers have aged normally enough for you?” she asks. “I have wondered before whether I’m merely serving as some kind of stand-in for him. Quite a poor substitution, apparently.”

Peggy recoils, looking as if she’d been slapped. But this, at least, finally gets Peggy to look at Diana. She shifts her body to face Diana fully and reaches for Diana with both hands. She takes hold of Diana’s face, one hand to each side, and guides Diana into looking back at her.

“Diana, no, that’s not it at all,” she says. She looks so sincere, but Diana doesn’t know if she can believe her. Peggy must see it in Diana’s eyes, because she continues, “Listen to me, Diana. What I feel for you has nothing to do with him. All right? I… I love you for who _you_ are—kind, and compassionate, and caring, and still so idealistic, even after all the horrors you have seen. You are not a substitution.” She practically spits out this last word with disdain. “You could never be such a thing.”

Diana’s small smile is wry and stained with heartbreak. “You tell me you love me, while in the process of breaking up with me?”

Peggy wilts under the question. She releases her hold on Diana’s face, letting her hands drop to Diana’s leg, but she doesn’t look away again.

“It’s just…” Her voice is soft, weary. “I think this is for the best. As much as it hurts now, it would only hurt more, later on.”

Diana is only halfway listening, and she comments, “Did you know, despite how very _old_ I am, no one has ever broken up with me, before.”

She thinks she might be in shock.

Peggy’s short laugh turns into a cry, and even now, the sound pulls at Diana’s heart. She turns towards Peggy, cupping her cheek for just a moment and then leaning her head down until their foreheads touch.

They remain like that for a long time, neither one saying anything.

At some point Diana murmurs, wanting it to be ‘on the record,’ as it were, “I love you too.”

Diana isn’t sure when it is that she starts crying.

But what starts as a few silent tears soon can no longer be contained, and she’s crying like she hasn’t in… She doesn’t even know how long.

Peggy makes a pained sound out of the back of her throat, and then swiftly moves so she can pull Diana down towards her, cradling Diana’s head against her chest. They come together easily, fitting their bodies together as Peggy pulls her legs up onto the couch, reclining back against the arm and pulling Diana half-way on top of her.

Diana can feel Peggy’s body shaking with her own tears, but none of it changes Peggy’s mind.

* * *

The following month, Diana goes to see Peggy off, after Peggy had very hesitantly asked her to.

They share a long hug, and then Diana can only stand and watch as Peggy, with wet eyes and cheeks, boards her plane. Tears gather in Diana's eyes as well, but she blinks them back and wills them not to fall; she is tired of crying. Still, she stays there, without moving, until the plane is just a small dot in the sky.

Then she turns around, goes to say another goodbye to Etta, and then gets on a train bound for Dover, where she’ll cross over into France. She doesn’t know where she’ll end up, after that.

But she’s never liked London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Diana helping people over the Pyrenees during WWII came from the book, The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah, which is excellent. There also really were escape routes through the mountains, to get people out of France and into Spain. These routes were used by European Jews, other refugees, and British/American pilots who'd been shot down over occupied territory.


	5. Part 4.5

[4.5]

It shouldn’t be any effort at all, walking up five flights of stairs. Diana had decided to forego the elevator, and this _should_ be as easy as breathing. But as she walks down the carpeted hallway, breathing doesn’t feel so easy; she’s nearly out of breath, she can feel her heart racing, her palms sweating…

Diana takes a minute to gather herself, and then knocks at apartment 501.

A woman Diana has never seen before opens the door. She’s in her 60s, maybe. Her brown, though slightly graying, hair is stylishly curled. She is beautiful, like a gracefully aging Hollywood star.

They stare at each other.

“Well,” the woman says in a huffed out exhale. “We’ve never met, but I gotta say, I’d know you anywhere, Diana Prince.”

She crosses her arms in front of her chest and stares Diana down—she somehow manages this, despite being at least 5 inches shorter—not looking at all pleased at Diana’s appearance on her doorstep.

Still, Diana smiles. Something about this woman’s gruff demeanor relaxes her.

“You must be Angie,” she guesses.

“Guess I must be,” Angie replies. “What are you doing here?”

Diana swallows, but doesn’t look away.

“Peggy invited me.”

Angie scoffs. “She sure did,” she agrees. “And when did she first do that, again? Three years ago, or thereabouts?”

Diana winces, embarrassed. “I… have been busy,” she says.

“Uh huh.”

After another minute, Angie lets Diana off the hook.

She rolls her eyes and, uncrossing her arms, says, “Yeah, you were probably off preventing World War III, weren’t you? You have anything to do with stopping the Soviets from nuking us? Come on in. Peg’ll be thrilled to see you.”

Angie turns and walks back into the apartment, leaving the door open for Diana to follow.

It’s a beautiful space; Diana only gets a quick look around, but she notes the high ceilings, warm light, and large windows looking out over the Potomac River.

“Angie?” comes a call from somewhere near at hand, just off to Diana’s right. “Angie, who was— Oh.”

Diana turns towards the voice and lays eyes on Peggy Carter for the first time in almost 50 years. Just in time to watch Peggy drop the mug she’d been holding.

Instinctively, Diana moves quickly towards Peggy, dropping down to one knee and, with several inches to spare, she catches the mug before it crashes to the floor.

“Well that’s a neat trick,” Angie comments.

Peggy, wide-eyed, looks over at Angie, and then back to Diana, who stands up and places the mug on a nearby side table.

“You’re here,” Peggy says, voice breathless.

Diana’s smile is shy, but happy. “Hello, Peggy,” she says. “I am sorry to just show up like—”

She is interrupted by Peggy launching herself at Diana, wrapping her arms around Diana’s waist and hugging her tightly.

Diana’s arms instantly lift to return the embrace, and she closes her eyes and rests her cheek against the top of Peggy’s head. Diana has long ago gotten over her heartbreak, but she can admit to herself that it still feels exceedingly good to have Peggy in her arms once again.

Angie clears her throat.

Peggy laughs, pulling away from Diana and moving over to Angie’s side.

“Oh don’t be cross, my darling,” she says, before pecking Angie first on the cheek and then on the lips.

Diana exhales, happy to realize that it doesn’t hurt to see Peggy like this, clearly in love with someone else. There’s a small twinge of… Diana’s not sure. Jealousy, maybe. But jealousy over what the two of them have, not over Peggy, specifically. She and Peggy have become true friends, over these last 10 years, writing increasingly long letters back and forth to each other.

“Yeah, yeah, English,” Angie says. Her voice sounds grumpy, but she’s grinning. “Good thing you’re so sweet, huh?”

Angie turns to look back at Diana—with perhaps a slightly possessive arm around Peggy’s waist. She says, “I’ll tell ya, Diana, it took quite some getting used to, the idea that Peggy’s exes were not only Captain America, but also a literal Amazon warrior, who was a demi-goddess to boot.”

“Indeed, you’re quite right,” Peggy says. “I ended up in a terribly rough spot. Had to settle for a Tony Award winning actress, instead.”

“Well I hadn’t won the Tony yet, when you first settled for me.”

Peggy rolls her eyes.

Angie continues, speaking again to Diana, “Hey, has anyone named you, yet?”

Confused at the question, Diana furrows her brow.

“You know,” Angie goes on, “like a superhero name.”

“Ah.” Diana inclines her head, catching on to Angie’s meaning. “No, not that I know of. I am not a superhero.”

“Hm. We’ll have to think of something for you,” Angie decides.

During this back and forth, Peggy says nothing, but leans against Angie’s side and beams happily at Diana.

Without leaving Angie’s side, Peggy then holds out a hand towards Diana and murmurs, “Come here.”

Diana does, crossing the room slowly and placing her hand in Peggy’s. Peggy tugs her closer, then straightens so she can reach up and cup Diana’s cheek in her other hand.

Peggy’s eyes sweep all across Diana’s face, back and forth, over all of her features. Diana looks exactly as she did in 1945, she knows, and she imagines that it must be somewhat jarring to see.

But even if there’s some evidence in Peggy’s face of the stress she faces on a day-to-day basis with SHIELD, for now Peggy simply looks peaceful, and happy.

“It is so incredibly good to see you,” Peggy whispers.

Her throat thick with emotion, Diana can only nod.

Then Peggy rises up on tip-toes and kisses her. It is chaste, and perfectly platonic, and lovely. They’re both smiling when they part, and Peggy’s hand slips down off Diana’s face.

“Well honestly, I think it’s only fair if…”

Diana turns her head slightly towards the voice, but that’s the only warning she gets before Angie leans in and plants a firm kiss right on Diana’s lips.

It’s over in just a second or two, and Angie explains over Peggy’s surprised laughter, “I had to see what all the fuss was about. Not bad, Princess.”

She pats Diana amiably on the arm. Diana just stares at her, with no idea whatsoever what to say in response.

Once Peggy has control of her laughter, she takes a deep breath and says, “Well come on, you two. I’ll make us some tea, and then we can all sit and have a chat.”

She squeezes Diana’s hand, still held in her own, and then lets go and walks off towards, Diana can only assume, the kitchen. Angie follows right alongside her, already chattering about something, and Peggy laughs again.

Diana shakes her head. She’s barely been there ten minutes, and it’s already been a whirlwind.

Then she smiles.

She thinks it’s going to be a very good thing, being back in Peggy’s life.


	6. Part 5, Kara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning that this is the part with those mentioned-but-not-shown major character deaths...

[5]

 _“Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.”_  
_—Zelda Fitzgerald_

It’s Kal-El who sends her to Kara.

“I don’t know how to help her,” he says. “She’s struggling so much, but she won’t listen to me.” He sighs, looking pained. “I’ve never been the one she can lean on. It’s always been Alex. And then Lena, too. But now, to lose both of them at once…”

Diana claps him on the shoulder and tells him, “I don’t know how much help I can be, but I will do what I can.”

Kara is no longer living in National City, but Diana finds her at the Fortress of Solitude, beating the pulp out of something that may at one point have been a specialized boxing bag.

Her back is to Diana, and as Diana steps into the doorway, Kara calls out without looking behind her, “Go away, Clark, I mean it!”

“Your cousin gave me a spare key,” Diana says.

As soon as Diana speaks her first words, Kara whirls around and shoots lasers out of her eyes, directly at Diana. But Diana calmly blocks them with her gauntlets, redirecting the lasers into the floor.

Kara realizes, belatedly, that Diana is not a threat, and she backs off. For just a moment, there’s a flash of embarrassment, and then a quick look of excitement, as Kara sees who it is who has shown up at her door.

Kal-El had mentioned, before, that Kara was a fan of Wonder Woman’s.

But the excitement fades quickly, leaving Kara looking sullen and blank.

“So he’s resorted to sending his friends to deal with me?” she asks. “Go back to Metropolis, Wonder Woman. Tell Clark not to bother.”

With that, she turns away again, returning to her punching.

All in all, Diana feels like things could have gone a lot worse.

* * *

But Diana doesn’t go back to Metropolis. She doesn’t live in Metropolis, for one thing. In any case, Diana doesn’t go anywhere.

To Diana’s simultaneous amusement and concern, it takes Kara three days before she even notices.

Until the morning of the fourth day, when they finally happen to cross paths. Diana is sitting at a table in the kitchen, eating breakfast, when Kara strolls in with a bowl of cereal in her hands. She walks right past Diana and over to the refrigerator, reaching inside to grab some milk. She’s almost out of the room again before she catches sight of Diana out of the corner of her eyes and does a double take.

She looks more confused than anything else, standing with her spoon held halfway to her mouth.

And as she stands there, Diana gets her first good look at her.

She’d heard about Supergirl before, of course. Kal-El had spoken very proudly of his cousin, and Diana had taken an occasional interest in Supergirl’s exploits, as reported in The Gateway Gazette.

The woman standing in front of her now only loosely resembles the one she’d seen on the news.

Kara looks like she hasn’t slept or showered in days. Her hair falls limply around her red-rimmed eyes, and her skin looks unhealthily pale. She’s dressed in sweats, but walks barefoot across the icy floor.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” Kara asks eventually, sounding unsure, as she lowers her spoon back to her bowl. “Have you been here all this time? What are you still doing here?”

Diana shrugs. “I thought I might stick around for a little while. Take advantage of your lovely hospitality.”

Kara simply stares at her.

“You should eat that,” Diana comments, angling her chin towards the bowl still resting in Kara’s hand. “Before it gets too soggy.”

Kara stares at her for a minute longer, before she begins shoveling rapid spoonful’s into her mouth.

“Don’t you have, I don’t know, kittens to rescue or people to save?” Kara asks, though she sounds rather bored with the idea.

“Don’t you?” Diana counters.

Kara’s expression darkens. “Not anymore,” she murmurs, before tossing her empty bowl towards the sink. She must throw it harder than she’d meant to, or else simply not thought about what would happen, because it shatters on contact.

Kara stares at the broken shards, face neutral, before turning and walking away.

* * *

Kara jumps about five feet in the air when Diana barges into the… Diana isn’t actually sure what this room is, but Kara had been standing in the middle of it, looking lost, when Diana storms in. Kara should have heard Diana coming, but Diana doesn’t comment on it.

She begins speaking as soon as she enters, saying, “Yesterday you asked me if I had things to do; if there were kittens, people, etcetera, in need of saving.”

Once Kara has recovered from her surprise, she simply glares at Diana, annoyed at the intrusion.

“Well,” Diana continues, “I have people checking in on my city, and there are ways to contact me if anything serious happens, so all is well.”

“Do you have a point?” Kara asks dully.

“Yes,” Diana replies. “Regarding possible things to do, I was thinking that while there are no kittens to rescue or people to save, at the moment, there might be an alien to fight. If you’d be amenable.”

It takes Kara a minute to catch on.

“You want to fight me?” she eventually asks. “Why?”

“Well it is not every day that I get the chance to truly test my strength and my abilities,” Diana explains. “I already know that I am stronger than your cousin, but I’ve heard that you are faster than he is.”

What Diana thinks but doesn’t say is that although she’d first come there thinking that maybe the two of them would talk, perhaps being able to fight someone—to punch something that won’t break—would be more beneficial to Kara at this point in time.

And again, there’s a real spark of excitement in Kara at the idea. But before Diana can stoke the fire further, the spark dies.

“Not today,” Kara says, before she sinks into a nearby chair and leans her elbows on a desk in front of her, with her head in her hands.

‘Not today’ doesn’t mean never. So, just for now, Diana does what Kara wants, and leaves Kara alone.

* * *

But Diana changes up her strategy, at that point.

She begins spending time wherever Kara is; not for the full day, but for a decent part of it. She reads; she studies up on the history of Krypton; she polishes her sword and her armor; she only rarely says anything to Kara, and even then, nothing beyond the occasional innocuous comment.

Diana is simply there, not letting Kara forget about her presence.

Kara only looks more exhausted and more pale with each passing day. But she’s clearly been thinking about Diana’s offer of a fight, because after three days of this, she says, out of the blue, “All right. I’ll spar with you.”

Diana grins. “Lovely.”

They agree on ground rules—no external weapons, but anything else goes, including Kara’s heat vision; first one to pin the other for five seconds wins—and Kara brings Diana to a room she hasn’t seen yet. It’s nothing fancy, just a large, open room, with padded floors and, Kara tells her, promethium-reinforced walls, so they don’t have to worry about bringing the whole fortress down on top of themselves.

Diana finds that she feels somewhat unbalanced, without her shield, or her sword, or her lasso. Nonetheless, she’s no stranger to hand-to-hand combat, and her armor and gauntlets are really all that she needs.

As expected, Kara immediately comes at her in full aggressive force. She’s fast, it’s true. But Kara appears not to be at her best, because Diana has no trouble at all dodging Kara’s fist, before she grabs hold of it and uses it to fling Kara across the room.

She hits the wall, hard, but recovers enough to stop herself from falling to the floor. Kara hovers horizontally above the ground for just a second before she rights herself and regains her feet.

If the ease with which Diana had tossed her makes Kara rethink her strategy, at all, she doesn’t show it. She flies, quite literally, right back at Diana, this time just barreling directly into her. Kara hits her with the force of a tank, and it’s with no small amount of effort that Diana stays on her feet while sliding backwards, before she can twist enough out of Kara’s hold, with Kara’s unrelenting momentum once again sending her careening towards a wall.

Then again, Diana thinks, maybe Kara has no strategy.

She comes at Diana again without hesitation. But Diana is ready for her. She ducks out of Kara’s path but instead of letting her fly by, she grabs hold of Kara by both arms and throws her toward the ground. Kara crashes down, but rolls away before Diana can pin her.

Kara pushes up off the floor and right into Diana, with Diana taking a hard shoulder to the chest. She grunts, but absorbs the blow.

They’re close together, now. Grappling. Trying to gain leverage.

Diana can smell the sweat on Kara’s skin, feel the exhale of Kara’s breath, hear the sharp thwack of Kara’s fist hitting armor.

Kara’s punches are hard, solid, and in the end, utterly ineffective.

But she keeps hitting, again and again, and a low keening noise begins to flow from her mouth. It’s soft at first, but gains volume with each blow, full of grief and anger and pain.

Diana only barely fights back for a minute. She lets Kara strike her; lets her release a few of her demons.

Until, with one swift move, Diana lowers her body to knock Kara’s feet out from under her.

Kara falls like a rock.

She’d been so locked in, so focused on just _hitting_ , at the expense of noticing anything else, that she seems to not even think of flying, or guarding herself.

Kara falls, and Diana straddles her waist to hold her down, and the fight is over.

Staring up at the ceiling, her chest heaving, Kara looks shocked at having been defeated.

“That was fun,” Diana says with a small grin. “But maybe now that you’ve been handily beat by an old woman like me, you will think about taking better care of yourself, yes? You need to sleep more. And shower. I recommend showering first, for both of our sakes.”

Kara actually looks offended.

Diana gets to her feet and offers a hand to pull Kara up, but Kara shakes her head.

“I’m just going to lie here, for a bit,” she says after a long pause.

Diana considers Kara for a moment and then lies down on the floor beside her.

They don’t talk. But when Kara starts to cry a little while later, Diana simply reaches out and holds her hand.

* * *

Kara enters the kitchen, nose first.

She sniffs the air, before her eyes find the food. Her eyes widen.

“Where…?” She swallows. “Where did all this come from?”

Diana finishes her bite of dumplings before she responds, saying, “Hong Kong.”

Kara blinks, and then tears her eyes away from the food long enough to look at Diana with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

“Really?” she asks.

Diana nods. “Would you like some?” She offers Kara a pair of chopsticks.

After hesitating for only a moment, Kara takes them and then digs into the nearest container. “How did you get to Hong Kong?” she asks around a bite of food. “You can’t fly like I can.”

“I have a jet,” Diana explains nonchalantly. “It’s invisible.”

Kara pauses her eating and lifts her eyes back to Diana’s.

“You’re joking,” Kara guesses, but Diana shakes her head with a smile.

“I am not,” she responds. “I won a bet against Batman, so he had to give me his most advanced stealth plane.”

Kara just stares at her.

Diana stares back, until she can’t help cracking a smile. “All right, that last part isn’t true,” she admits. “Batman doesn’t have a plane as good as mine. I received my jet as a gift from the secret race of beings that live beneath Antarctica.”

Kara continues to stare, until she shakes her head and returns to the food. “You’re very strange, sometimes,” she comments. “Well, however you actually got this, the food’s really good. Thanks.”

It’s the first time that Kara has expressed any appreciation for Diana’s presence.

“Enjoy,” is all Diana says in response.

She’ll wait until another time to tell Kara that her invisible jet is sentient.

* * *

Diana has been at the fortress for almost a month before she has to leave to deal with some things back home.

When she returns, after a few days spent tracking down a woman who was turning men into stone, she brings a copy of a National City newspaper with her.

Not CatCo Magazine, of course. Diana figures it would do more harm than good.

She leaves the newspaper in the room that she’s taken to calling ‘the library.’ Kara seems to spend a lot of time there, although Diana has yet to see her actually reading any of the books that line the shelves.

The paper remains there, untouched, for four days. Then, it’s simply gone.

Two days later, when they’re lying on the floor after another one of their sparring sessions, Kara asks softly, “Do you think you could get me another newspaper?”

Diana smiles.

* * *

Diana beats Kara for sixteen fights in a row.

After each one, Kara gets a little bit angrier, a little less wild, and a little more focused.

When she wins for the first time, Kara pumps her fist and releases a whoop of joy and triumph.

Almost immediately, however, she pulls her fist in close to her chest, holding it down with her other hand, and goes silent. She looks at Diana, face stricken.

“Kara, what—”

Kara scrambles to her feet and flees the room.

It takes a little while, but Diana finds her again in the fitness area. It’s strikingly similar to the day when she’d first arrived, with Kara mercilessly pounding against some kind of invulnerable punching bag.

Diana enters the room cautiously, unsure what it was that had upset Kara. She moves into Kara’s line of sight, and angry blue eyes flick over to Diana before moving away.

“Kara?” Diana calls out, her voice gentle. “Kara stop, you are going to hurt yourself.”

“I _can’t_ hurt myself,” Kara spits out. “No matter what I do, no matter who I put into danger, no matter who I can’t save, I’ll always be just _fine_.”

It’s not true, Diana knows. Physical invulnerability does not preclude getting hurt.

“I think you need some air,” Diana states.

Kara only punches harder.

So Diana steps forward again, right up to Kara, and reaches to wrap both her arms around Kara and lift her off the ground, pulling her away from the punching bag.

“What are you _doing_? Put me _down_ ,” Kara demands, but Diana ignores her.

Kara’s body thrashes wildly within Diana’s hold, but she can’t break free as Diana hauls her down several hallways and finally out into the frigid air outside.

Diana tosses Kara into the snow. Kara then jumps to her feet and, with a snarl of anger, she shoves Diana in the chest.

“What the hell was that for?” Kara growls.

“I thought you needed a reminder that there’s still life out there,” Diana says, gesturing out towards the expansive stretch of snow-covered ground. “The rest of the world is still here, beyond this fortress of yours.”

“So what?”

Kara shoves Diana again, for no apparent reason. She’s just looking for a fight.

“Yes,” Diana nods. “Go ahead and get angry, but at least be honest about it. Who are you angry at? At me? At yourself, for daring to be happy for all of one second? That’s what upset you, isn’t it? After you finally beat me. Or are you angry at them, for leaving you?”

The sound that Kara releases is more of an animalistic roar than anything human.

She flies forward and tackles Diana into the snow.

Diana moves fluidly with Kara’s attack, absorbing the blow, and then rolls the two of them until she’s on top and can pin Kara’s hands to the ground.

“ _Hey_ , listen to me!”

Kara doesn’t respond. She tries, unsuccessfully, to buck Diana off of her, but Diana doesn’t give an inch.

Diana continues, “You’ve been up here for months, punishing yourself, and for what?”

Kara is listening, at least, because she yells back, “For failing them!”

“And is this what they’d want for you?” Diana asks, her voice hard. “Is any of this actually _for_ them?”

“What do you know?” Kara challenges. “This has nothing to do with you!”

“You think you’re the only one to ever lose people?” Diana scoffs. Despite her best efforts, she feels her own temper rising. “I have been alive for _hundreds_ of years, I’d say that I know _plenty_ about loss; about the guilt of surviving.”

Kara says nothing this time, but she continues to struggle against Diana’s firm hold.

Diana takes a deep breath, and then her voice turns softer, gentler, as she urges, “Let it out, Kara. Let out what you’re feeling.”

Kara’s eyes are squeezed shut, and there’s some change in her posture that lets Diana know what’s going to happen just before it does.

Diana releases her hold on Kara’s wrists and leans backward, just in time to get out of the way as Kara’s eyes open and her heat vision shoots out of them. With Kara still lying on her back, the twin beams of red light shoot straight up into the air. Diana watches—fascinated, in spite of the situation—the way that Kara’s eyes burn and sizzle with energy.

But the scream that erupts from deep inside Kara’s chest is heart-wrenching.

Diana remains close. It’s the least she can do, bearing witness to Kara’s pain.

Eventually Kara runs out of steam; she stills and goes quiet. In the reverberating silence, there’s now only the sound and sight of their exhaled breath into the cold air.

Diana gets to her feet.

This time, when she reaches out to offer Kara a hand up, Kara takes it.

* * *

Diana stands in the doorway for a minute before Kara notices her.

Kara is sitting in the library with a closed book in her lap.

Once Kara does notice Diana, her gaze flickers over only briefly before she looks away again; but then she must process what she’d seen in that moment, because her eyes return quickly back to Diana.

Diana is wearing black slacks, a light blue button-up blouse, and a warm pea coat, currently unbuttoned.

“Are you going somewhere?” Kara asks.

“Yes,” Diana replies. “I have been away for too long, and my city needs me.”

Kara nods. “Okay, sure,” she says, but her nonchalant tone sounds forced.

Diana doesn’t move or say anything else, just stares at Kara, as tension slowly builds up in the hard line of Kara’s shoulders.

“Was there anything else?” Kara eventually asks.

For a few seconds more, Diana still says nothing, until she adds, “I was wondering if maybe you might come with me.”

Crime has been rising in National City; Diana had been considering whether or not to tell Kara, but decided that Kara didn’t need the additional pressure. She’s not sure if it’s the right decision or not. Especially when Kara immediately shuts down in reaction to Diana’s suggestion.

“No,” is all she says, breaking their eye contact.

“Kara—”

“I said _no_ , Diana.”

Diana lapses back into silence, but still doesn’t leave, yet.

Finally Kara sighs, but she doesn’t look at Diana. “What is it?” she asks, almost pouting, now. “Are you going to kidnap me or something?”

“No,” Diana answers. “But I am worried about you.”

That gets Kara to look back over at her again, appearing surprised. “I’ll be fine,” she says after a moment.

Kara does look a lot better than she had when Diana first showed up. She’s still incredibly pale, but she’s been eating better and showering regularly. And as far as Diana has been able to tell, Kara has been sleeping more. Sometimes maybe even too much, considering the times when Diana will run into Kara after she’s just woken up—eyes bleary with lingering sleep, still dressed in pajamas—and it’s after noon.

“I’ll be fine,” Kara repeats. “I mean it. Go be a hero.”

Her last words sound only vaguely bitter.

* * *

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 83_

“Your friend, M’gann M’orzz, says hello.”

They sit together on the floor, back to back. It’s become a sort of routine, just sitting and talking, whenever Diana shows up to check in on Kara for a few days at a time.

They’ve progressed from lying prone on the floor after each sparring session. Diana still beats Kara considerably more often than not, but one day Kara had scrambled into an upright position, sitting cross-legged, after the fight. Diana hadn’t commented on the change, but had simply sat down across from her.

Kara hadn’t talked much, that time. Not until the first time Diana had instead sat _behind_ Kara, with her back to her. Kara’s words flow more freely when they’re not looking at each other, and she seems to take some solace from the solid feel of Diana’s back, pressing against her own.

“You met M’gann?” Kara asks. Her voice sounds… It’s an interesting mix of things, some combination of curiosity, excitement, and wariness.

“Mm,” Diana hums in agreement. “I like her. She was a big help in defeating the twins, Phobos and Deimos, who had come to Earth from Mars’ moons and were terrorizing National City.”

“That’s good,” replies Kara, seemingly not concerned at all by what Diana’s just said. “And she’s doing okay?”

“Yes. She…” Diana hesitates. “She was very sorry to hear about your sister and Lena.”

Kara doesn’t react at first, and Diana thinks that things might be all right.

Then— “Yeah,” Kara says, short and tight. She gets up off the floor and leaves the room.

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 107_

“It is too cold, in this fortress of yours,” Diana declares.

She can feel the arch of Kara’s shrug against her back. “Not my fault,” she says. “You can take up your complaints with Clark. He’s the one who decided to put this place in the middle of the Arctic.”

“He lacks imagination,” Diana grumbles. “The Amazons have a _much_ better way of removing themselves from the rest of the world.”

There’s only a short pause before Kara asks, curious, “What do the Amazons do?”

So Diana tells Kara about Themyscira—about the gods who made the island and then hid it from Man’s World; about the Amazons, women chosen to be resurrected from the Underworld, to serve as mankind’s last line of defense; about how Diana chose to leave and now can never return.

It takes a moment for Kara to fully take that in.

“Wait, so…”

Diana feels the loss of contact at her back, but doesn’t understand why until she glances over her shoulder and sees that Kara has actually turned around to face her. Surprised, Diana turns around as well.

Kara continues, “You mean your home is still there, out there, somewhere in the world. And everyone you grew up with. Your family. They’re all fine, alive and well, but you can’t ever see them again?”

Diana has to swallow past the lump in her throat before she can speak. “You have articulated the situation quite well, yes.”

Her sad smile is more of a twitch at the corner of her mouth than anything else.

Kara looks devastated.

“Bu that’s… That’s awful.”

All Diana can do is nod in agreement.

She can almost see the thoughts racing through Kara’s head—imagining that Krypton were still there, that her planet had never been destroyed, but that Kara could still never return there anyway.

The relief of it.

The crushing pain of it.

“It is not easy, being an exile,” Diana says after a long silence. “That’s a difficult lesson we’ve both had to learn.”

Kara scoots forward, close enough for her to take Diana’s hand. It’s the first time, other than fighting, when she’s initiated any contact.

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 139_

“You know that food you got from Hong Kong?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been daydreaming about that food. It was so good.”

“I could get some more, if you’d like.”

“Ha, yeah. In your invisible jet, right?”

“Yes. Would you like to see it?”

“How can I see it, if it’s invisible?”

“It can make itself visible if it wants to.”

“If it _wants_ to?”

“Yes.”

“…This planet is so weird.”

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 171_

“If you could go back and change things,” Kara asks, “would you? I mean, change things so that you never left Themyscira.”

Diana doesn’t need time to think it over.

“No,” she says.

Kara pushes on. “Well but why not? You lost everything. Doesn’t that matter?”

Without looking, Diana reaches behind her to flick a finger against the back of Kara’s head.

“Of course it _matters_ ,” she says, unable to keep the hint of anger from creeping into her voice. “Leaving Themyscira remains the most difficult thing I have ever had to do.”

“But you’d do it again?” Kara presses. “You don’t regret your decision?”

Diana takes longer to respond, this time. Her thoughts turn to Themyscira, never all that far from her mind. To her mother. Her aunt. To Kasia.

“There are things that I wish could be different,” Diana acknowledges. “There are people I would do almost anything to be able to see again. But the decision I made was the right thing to do. And regret will not bring me any closer to those I have lost.”

They both lapse into silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Besides,” Diana eventually continues. “There is so much I have gained, by coming to Man’s World. So many people I never would have known, and would have been lesser for it. For every day that makes me despair over the state of humanity, there are ten more that bring me infinite joy.”

Kara still doesn’t say anything.

“They’re worth it, Kara,” Diana murmurs. “Humans are worth it. You know that they are.”

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 209_

“Are you okay?” Kara asks.

It takes Diana a moment to register the question.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” Kara repeats. “You seem… I don’t know. Not yourself.”

“Because you beat me so easily, this time?” Diana asks, trying unsuccessfully to smile. She doesn’t know why she even bothers, since no one is looking at her.

“Not just that,” is Kara’s response. She leans forward, reaching to stretch out her muscles.

Kara has gotten better at not interrupting the silence, when Diana doesn’t respond right away.

Finally Diana explains, “There are two people who… They were incredibly special to me. They died years apart from one another, but the anniversaries of their deaths happen to fall within a week of each other. Yesterday was the second of the two.”

Diana can almost feel the tension rising up Kara’s back, and she wonders for a moment whether Kara might be about to bolt again.

Instead, after a long, frozen moment, Kara straightens her posture. It’s a subtle change, but somehow Diana can sense the difference—this time, Diana can be the one to lean back against Kara for support, instead of the other way around.

Kara reaches blindly behind her until she finds Diana’s hand and squeezes it tightly. She doesn’t let go, either, like Diana expects her to.

“I’m really sorry,” Kara says. It doesn’t come out louder than a whisper. “Who were they? Do you… Do you want to talk about them?”

And, Diana finds that she does. She pauses to gather herself, then begins to speak.

“Their names were Etta Candy and Peggy Carter. I loved them both, very much. Etta was my best friend for a very long time. Peggy was… Well, I suppose she was my girlfriend for a little while. It didn’t last, but she meant so much to me, and we grew closer again, later in her life.”

Diana continues speaking—remembering their lives, remembering _them_. Kara listens.

It doesn’t make the pain go away. But it does hurt a little bit less.

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 230_

“I—”

Kara begins to speak, but then cuts herself off. Diana doesn’t push her. She merely reaches behind her to, in a studied display of nonchalance, brush her fingers over Kara’s.

Kara takes a deep breath.

“I get lonely, here. Sometimes,” she says.

Diana nods, even though Kara can’t see her. “I would be very surprised if you didn’t,” she replies.

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 258_

“Seriously, that is _so_ cool. I can’t believe you have an _invisible jet!_ ”

“This truly should not be new information.”

“Well sorry I wasn’t all that convinced by your story of a jet that was all-so-conveniently invisible.”

“You accuse me of lying? Kara, you offend me. I have a Lasso of Truth; I do not lie.”

“Yeah, sure. Says the woman who once told me that Batman was _Bruce Wayne_ , of all people.”

“Yes?”

“Are you serious? Batman is _Bruce Wayne?!_ ”

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 284_

Diana carries her delivery under her coat, mumbling soft sounds of comfort to it as she walks through the fortress, looking for Kara.

Kara is emerging from the shower, toweling her hair, when Diana finally finds her.

“Oh, you’re back,” Kara comments, after she looks up and sees Diana standing in the hallway.

Diana stares at Kara, momentarily distracted by the way that Kara’s raised arms, still holding the towel to her head, have caused her shirt to rise up her torso.

“Yes.” Diana blinks and clears her throat. “I cannot stay long,” she says, re-focusing on Kara’s face, “but I brought you something. Someone.”

She reaches into her coat and pulls out a large cat, placing him on the floor between them. The cat rubs up against Diana’s legs and purrs.

“You brought me a cat?” Kara asks, sounding completely baffled. She looks down at the animal, then back up at Diana.

“He’s a stray,” Diana explains. “And you’re here all the time, so you are in a much better position than I am to look after him. He is a Maine Coon, I think, so the cold won’t bother him.”

“I— I can’t take care of a cat up here.”

“Of course you can!” Diana insists. “I left food, a bed, and some toys for him downstairs. But he needs a name. The cat and I are counting on you, Kara. Good luck.”

“What? No. Wait.”

Diana reaches down to pet the cat one more time.

“Goodbye, cat,” she says. “Don’t worry, Kara will take good care of you.”

“You’re _leaving?_ ”

“Goodbye, Kara.” She nods at Kara and has to work hard not to laugh at the dumbstruck expression on her face. “I will be back again soon, I hope.”

Diana is halfway down the hallway when she hears, “Hi there, kitty. You’re a big boy, aren’t you? I’m Kara.”

Diana smiles.

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 303_

On the anniversary of Alex and Lena’s deaths, Clark and Barry Allen both come to the fortress along with Diana.

They each have different styles of trying to help. Clark goes for the steady-as-a-rock support system. Barry speeds around, talking a lot and giving Kara lots of hugs.

Diana isn’t sure what to do. She never knew either woman; she’s not sure that she has any place here.

“Hey, do you wanna spar?”

Diana looks up, surprised to see that Kara is talking to her. Clark and Barry look on, appearing anxious.

“All right,” Diana agrees after a moment.

“Outside, this time?” Kara proposes.

They haven’t fought outside since that day when Diana threw Kara into the snow.

She accepts.

All four of them begin to walk towards the main entrance, but after a few feet, Barry stops and puts a hand on Clark’s arm.

“Hey, maybe we should just let them do their thing, for a bit,” he suggests.

Kara looks back at him and gives a small smile of thanks.

“You better not go easy on me,” Kara demands, once they’re outside. “I mean it, Diana. That’s not what I need, right now.”

Diana nods.

Today Kara is back to being wilder, less disciplined, in her fighting, and it doesn’t take Diana long to beat her.

Kara pounds a fist into the ground and demands, “Again.”

After three rounds, they’ve had enough.

“Thank you,” Kara whispers.

They lie side by side in the snow for a little while, until Diana can no longer hide her shivering.

“Sorry,” Kara says, getting to her feet. She reaches down and pulls Diana up beside her. “Sometimes I wish it did, but the cold doesn’t bother me.”

Back inside, Diana goes to take a warm shower. She is again surprised to find Kara still there, sitting in the bedroom that Diana had claimed for herself. She moves to sit beside Kara at the edge of the bed.

Kara offers her a small smile, her sheepish expression showing that she knows Diana wasn’t expecting to find her there.

“Feeling better?” Kara asks. She sits with her hands resting in her lap, one hand clasped tightly in the other. Her whole posture seems compressed, as though she’s trying to make herself smaller, to take up less space.

“Much warmer, yes,” Diana agrees. She pauses, then asks, “Why are you hiding in here, Kara?”

Kara winces. “Do you mind?” she asks.

“No,” responds Diana. “I am only wondering why.”

“I don’t know.” Kara offers a small shrug. “I just… Didn’t feel ready to face the boys again yet.”

“That is perfectly fine. Would you like me to leave?”

Kara thinks that over for a minute, but shakes her head.

They don’t talk. At some point Crookshanks finds them, and he jumps up onto the bed, curls up in a ball at Kara’s side, and begins purring.

Sometime after that, Diana notices that Kara is shaking,

“Come here,” she murmurs softly, shifting her body so she can pull Kara into an embrace.

Kara clings to her, as her body is wracked with sobs.

Diana simply holds on tight. It doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s all she can do.

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 326_

Kara is full of restless energy, almost manic, and it’s driving Diana nuts.

“Why don’t you go fly around the fortress a few times?” Diana suggests, only half joking.

Kara takes the suggestion perfectly seriously.

“Okay, yeah,” she decides. “Good idea.”

She goes so quickly that, practically before Diana can even notice her absence, she’s already back again.

Diana laughs. “Go again,” she tells Kara.

Kara’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, and she gets a mischievous look in her eye.

“Okay,” Kara agrees again. “But this time you’re coming with me.”

Before Diana can ask what she means, Kara picks Diana right up off the ground, and with only a brief recommendation of, “Hold on to me,” she takes off into flight.

She’s flown around the fortress twice before Diana even gets her bearings. Kara’s showing off, clearly, but then she slows down a little, allowing Diana to actually take in the experience.

It’s _wonderful_.

Diana _can_ fly, both on her own or in her jet, but not like this. Kara takes her in wider circles, venturing farther and farther; maybe even farther than Kara has gone before, since she first retreated to the fortress and hid away from the world.

They see a herd of reindeer, some polar bears, a small pod of whales. It’s only when they begin to see signs of human life—Diana has lost all sense of direction, but she thinks it might be Alaska. Or maybe Norway?—that Kara begins circling back.

Once back on solid ground, it takes Diana a moment to find her footing, but Kara holds her upright.

“Pretty cool, right?”

Kara is beaming, looking happier than Diana has ever seen her.

Diana smiles back. “Pretty cool,” she agrees, and Kara laughs.

“It’s funny to hear you talk like that,” she says.

Diana teases, “Maybe next time you can take us somewhere useful. Like that restaurant in Hong Kong.”

Kara’s smile falters slightly, but then she gets a determined expression on her face.

She nods, resolute. “Maybe next time.”

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 369_

“Does it ever go away?” Kara asks, out of the blue.

Diana tries to make sense of the question, but it seems to have nothing to do with the conversation they’d been having.

“Missing them, I mean,” Kara clarifies before Diana has to ask. “Does that ever go away?”

Diana angles her head so that she can see Kara out of the corner of her eye. Kara’s gaze remains facing steadfastly forward, though she must notice Diana’s movement.

“No,” Diana eventually says, speaking over her shoulder. She reaches her arm behind her to squeeze Kara’s shoulder. “It does get easier, but it never fully goes away.”

.

_Days since Diana and Kara first met: 388_

It’s just about the very last thing that Diana had been expecting.

From the look on Kara’s face, the same could be said of her.

“I— I didn’t mean—” Kara stammers. She looks panicked.

But Diana can think of nothing to say to calm her. Her hand rises to brush her fingers across her lips, as Kara’s eyes follow her movement.

“I have to go,” Kara says, and then she’s gone in a flash.

Somehow, Diana gets the sense that Kara didn’t only mean that she had to go to a different room. She’s finally left the fortress, Diana thinks; left the Arctic, even, to go who knows where.

And all it took, in the end, was for Kara to suddenly kiss her.

* * *

Clark calls her the next day.

_“Hey, Kara just got in touch to ask me to ask you if you could take care of Crookshanks for a little while?”_

He sounds confused.

“Yes, of course,” Diana responds. Her voice is curt, annoyed that Kara would think that she even had to ask. And ask through _Clark_ , at that. “Do you know where she is?” she asks him.

 _“She’s not at the fortress?”_ Now he sounds even more confused. _“She’s not with you? Where is she?”_

“Everything is fine,” Diana tells him. “Don’t worry about it, Clark.”

Diana hangs up on him.

She gets a text from him 30 minutes later— _Kara won’t tell me where she is. What is going on?_ —but she ignores him.

It takes several days, and she needs to ask Clark for the address, but Diana does find Kara. She finds her at Lena Luthor’s old place.

Kara, sitting at the kitchen table with an open pizza box in front of her, doesn’t look surprised to see her.

“Hi,” she says, offering a small smile. “Sorry I ran away.”

Diana lets her eyes roam over Kara, just taking her in.

But the longer it goes without Diana saying anything, the more nervous Kara looks.

“Um, do you want some pizza?” she asks, but Diana shakes her head.

She does take a seat at the table, though. “I suppose we should talk about what happened,” she finally says.

“Do we have to?” Kara winces, then takes another large bite of food.

Diana doesn’t answer right away. She’s had a lot of time to think, over these past few days. She knows that Kara is hurting, knows that she’d probably just been grieving and confused… Knows it likely didn’t mean anything real to Kara.

And now she knows that she wishes that weren’t the case.

“You know that I care for you very much, don’t you?” Diana asks.

Kara lets out a self-deprecating laugh, “I mean, how could you not, when I’m such a complete and total mess?”

Diana doesn’t let her brush off the comment.

“I mean it, Kara.”

Her tone must get through, because Kara meets Diana’s gaze and holds it. Then she shrugs and looks away. “Sure,” she says. “You probably feel like I’m your little sister, or something.”

“No, Kara,” Diana contradicts. She reaches out to brush her fingers along the side of Kara’s chin, gently guiding her into restoring eye contact. “Not a little sister,” she says softly.

Kara swallows, and Diana thinks for a moment that Kara might be about to bolt again. She doesn’t, though. Diana leans back in her chair, letting her fingers trail from Kara’s face.

For the first time since she’d arrived, Diana begins to look around at her surroundings. The kitchen is beautiful—modern and sleek; mostly white and black, but with pops of color, slate blue.

“Did you know that I own this place now?”

Diana turns her attention back to Kara.

“Yeah,” Kara continues. “Lena…” She makes a face, twisting her mouth. It’s the first time that Kara has said her name out loud in Diana’s presence. “Lena left it to me. We were going to move in together, but we were both really busy, and so we hadn’t gotten around to it yet, and then she— I didn’t even know that she _had_ a will, but she did, and she left me her house, among other things, so now I own this whole place. I have no idea what to do with it. I was supposed to live here _with_ her, not—”

Kara breaks off and closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

“There’s no rush. You can take your time to decide what you want to do,” Diana says.

Kara just nods.

The ensuing silence between them is mostly comfortable, though somewhat strained.

“Will you…” Diana begins. She’s sitting with her hands held loosely on the table in front of her, just watching Kara. “Could you tell me about them?”

Her eyes still closed, Kara inhales sharply, holds it in for several beats, then exhales.

“Okay,” she finally says.

Kara reaches her right hand out and places it on the table, palm up.

Diana doesn’t do anything at first. Not until Kara opens her eyes again and inches her hand a little closer.

So Diana moves her own hand forward, slipping it into Kara’s.

And, with their fingers tightly entwined, Kara begins to talk.

* * *

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 6_

“Crookshanks! Hello, my sweet boy!”

Kara reaches down and lifts the cat into the air, hoisting him up high and then lowering him so she can pepper his cheeks with kisses. Until he places a paw directly in the middle of Kara’s face, that is.

“Okay, okay,” Kara concedes, putting him back on the floor. “Has Diana been taking good care of you?”

Crookshanks meows.

“That’s good!”

She turns to Diana, then, who is leaning in the doorway and watching the reunion. “Where did you say this place came from, again?” Kara asks. “I wasn’t really listening when you told me before.”

“Bruce has properties in almost every major city,” Diana explains for a second time. “For League usage. I have been staying here whenever I came to help deal with an issue in National City.”

“Right.” Hands on her hips, lips pursed, Kara nods. “Because Bruce Wayne is Batman.” She laughs. “What a world.”

“You could stay here, if you want,” Diana says. “There is more than enough room.”

Kara’s eyes widen, as though surprised at the offer.

Diana shifts uncomfortably. She adds, “You don’t have to, of course. I only thought, staying somewhere different might be…”

She trails off, but Kara looks around the room again and nods to herself.

“Yeah,” she says. “Okay. Somewhere different would be good.”

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 42_

Diana wakes up in an instant, heart pounding.

She reaches out with both hands and grabs the intruder by the shoulders. She maintains a firm hold, even as she scrambles out of bed and swipes at the intruder’s legs with one of her own, sending them both crashing down to the floor.

“Diana, stop! It’s just me!”

Diana is reaching for the knife under her pillow when the voice registers.

She freezes, then reaches for the bedside lamp, instead.

Straddled underneath her is Kara, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Um, hi,” Kara says. There’s a growing flush rising up her cheeks. She swallows visibly. “That was… Wow, yeah, that was… something.”

Diana’s heart is still pounding too fast, adrenaline coursing through her, for her to make any sense of Kara’s expression.

She rubs her hand over her eyes. It doesn’t occur to her, in the moment, to get up off of Kara, but Kara doesn’t complain.

“Is there a particular reason why you barged into my room at…” Diana glances at the clock. “3:42 in the morning, Kara?”

“Oh. Yes.” Kara only then seems to come of whatever daze she’d been in. “There’s a robbery in progress at the National City Bank.”

Diana sighs. “You know, when I said you could stay here, I didn’t think that I’d be getting a high-tech alarm system as a roommate.”

“I know,” Kara says, unrepentant. “Sorry. They’re almost done emptying out the vault, now.”

By the time Diana makes it back home after apprehending the robbers and handing them over to the police, Kara has made a huge stack of pancakes.

Well, at least Diana’s high-tech alarm system is also very good at making breakfast.

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 87_

“I think they would want me to be happy, but…”

Kara doesn’t immediately finish her sentence.

They’re sitting in the sun room. Diana is at the table, sharpening her sword, while Kara lies sprawled across the couch, with her feet propped up on one of the arms and her head hanging over the edge.

“You’re not sure you know how, anymore?” Diana guesses.

Kara agrees. “Yeah, something like that. I’ll get happy about something, and it’ll feel good for a moment, but then, I don’t know, it just feels wrong to be happy, when they died because I couldn’t do enough to save them.”

“That is not why they died, Kara,” Diana admonishes.

Kara just shrugs.

“But you just said it yourself,” Diana goes on. “They would _want_ you to be happy.”

“I know. I just don’t know if I can.”

For a little while, there’s nothing but the sound of sword against whetstone.

“Maybe…” Diana pauses to arrange her thoughts. “Maybe you can’t. But it’s still okay to try.”

“Yeah,” Kara says after a beat. “Maybe.”

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 118_

Diana groans.

“What is it this time?” she asks.

“Rogue alien,” Kara replies. She’s sitting cross-legged on Diana’s bed. “J’onn and the DEO are on their way. They can _probably_ handle it, but I bet they’d appreciate your help.”

“Honestly, why does so much criminal activity happen at such ungodly hours?”

“Pancakes when you’re back?”

Diana considers it.

“Scrambled eggs and bacon,” she decides.

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 143_

“It’s all right, Kara,” Diana murmurs softly. “They’re your friends, and they’ve been worried about you, and they miss you. They just want to see you.”

“I know.” Kara says. “I know.” She rubs both hands up and down her face, then messes with her hair. “It’s just… Seeing Winn, and James, and Sam, but not… Not Alex…”

“You saw Eliza a few months ago,” Diana points out, “and that went okay.”

Kara laughs. “We both sat there and cried. Is that what ‘okay’ is?”

“Sometimes.”

“Just, give me a minute?”

“Of course.” Diana sits down beside Kara on the stoop outside Winn’s building. “Take as long as you need.”

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 195_

Diana’s concentration is disturbed by the sound of the back door flying open.

“Diana, hey, have you—”

Some kind of choked sound emerges from Kara’s throat.

“Yes, Kara?”

Continuing her movements, Diana breathes deeply in and out. She is facing towards the ocean, with Bruce’s house behind her.

Kara seems to have difficulty getting the right words out. “Um. Yeah, I mean, I forget— What are you doing?”

Diana lunges to the side, her motion slow and controlled, and stretches out her arms. “I’ve been learning tai chi,” she says, holding her pose steady. “It’s very relaxing, and is supposed to be good for one’s health.”

“Uh huh,” Kara mumbles. “You’re not… You’re not wearing much clothing.”

Diana looks down at herself, muscles coiled and straining beneath her tank top and shorts, and then over her shoulder to Kara. “It is a very hot day,” she remarks. She closes her eyes and lifts her face up towards the sun. “Am I bothering you, Kara?”

“Nooo, nope, of course not,” responds Kara, scoffing. “I’m just gonna, you know, leave you to it. No big deal at all. Wonder Woman’s just wearing short shorts and doing tai chi in the backyard. It’s all good.”

The door slams shut again. Whatever Kara had meant to ask her, Diana supposes it can wait.

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 219_

Diana can tell immediately when Kara finds it, because the tune she’d been humming stops abruptly.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and then Kara calls out, “Diana?”

Without responding verbally, Diana walks up to Kara’s room. She leans against the doorway, so they both stand there, looking at it.

It’s spread out across Kara’s bed—the bright blue, red, and yellow in stark contrast to the dark gray comforter.

The effect is only _slightly_ marred by Crookshanks, sleeping on top of the left side of the suit.

“What is this doing here?” Kara asks. Diana can’t quite read the tone of her voice.

Diana replies, “Winn made some adjustments, recently. Something about some new technology, I don’t know, I rarely understand what he’s talking about. But he asked me to bring this over, just in case you might want to use it again, someday.”

Kara says nothing, just continues to stare at her suit.

“There’s no pressure,” Diana adds. She lifts a hand to Kara’s shoulder and squeezes. “I know you feel like you can’t trust yourself. This is just in case. It’ll be ready whenever you are.”

“And if I’m never ready?” asks Kara, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then that’s fine,” Diana assures her. “You are just as worthy of happiness, whether you ever wear that suit again or not.”

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 270_

Diana has been trying to figure out what the splotch of color on Kara’s forehead is for the past three minutes. She doesn’t _think_ it’s blood, but… What if something’s wrong with Kara, and Kryptonians bleed turquoise, but no one ever told Diana?

Finally, Kara demands, “Okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

“You have something…”

Diana points at her own forehead.

Kara swipes at the spot and looks down at her fingers, now covered in the same splotch of color.

“Oh,” she says, unconcerned. “It’s just paint.”

That piques Diana’s interest. “You paint?” she asks. “I did not know that.”

Kara shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I mean, sometimes? I haven’t in a long time.” She shrugs again.

“That’s wonderful,” Diana says with a wide smile. “I hope that you’ll show me one of your pieces, someday.”

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 308_

“You look beautiful,” Diana says. Even she can hear the awe in her own voice.

Kara makes a face at herself in the mirror.

Diana insists, “I mean it, Kara. And that doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful when you’re wearing regular clothes, because you are, but… You and this suit were meant for each other.”

With a deep breath in and out, Kara nods to herself, and then turns to Diana. “Okay,” she says. “I’m ready. You’ll stay with me, right?”

“Assuming I can keep up with you, Supergirl.”

Diana smiles, and gets a tight, nervous smile in return.

She hadn’t been expecting how emotional she would feel, seeing Kara like this. It stirs something in her—Diana feels it in her throat and in her chest—and she leans in to press a quick kiss to Kara’s cheek.

“Okay.” Kara huffs out another quick breath. “So we’ll just go fly around, and see what we see. Maybe nothing will happen, and no one will even notice me.”

“Right,” Diana confirms. Kara’s delusional if she actually thinks no one will notice her, but Diana decides not to point that out.

And Diana certainly doesn’t need to, because they’ve barely been in the air for a minute before it starts.

“Is that…?”

“Supergirl!”

“She’s back!”

“Welcome back, Supergirl!”

“I think that was…”

“I _knew_ she hadn’t left us!”

Even though Kara hadn’t said much about it, Diana knows that Kara had been anxious about the reception she’d receive, after she’d remained out of sight for so long. But Diana hadn’t been worried.

Diana understands that while the people of National City had gotten used to Wonder Woman’s presence in their city, it’s always been Supergirl who was truly _their_ hero.

Soon Kara states that there’s a fire on the other side of the city.

They fly together, with Kara holding onto Diana with one hand to help her; flying still isn’t Diana’s strongest skillset.

By the time the firefighters show up, Diana has already gotten everyone out of the building, while Kara has used her freeze breath to stop the fire.

When it’s clear that the danger is over, Kara looks anxious to leave again, but Diana has noticed one little girl in particular, standing to the side and staring at Kara with awestruck wonder in her eyes. She looks like she’s trying to come to a decision about something; Diana catches her eye and angles her head towards Kara with an encouraging nod.

The girl grins.

“Supergirl, wait!” she calls out. She bursts out from behind her mother and runs straight at Kara, practically throwing herself at her hero and wrapping her arms around Kara’s legs in a tight hug.

Kara stares down at the little blonde head, shocked. Her arms are in the air, as if she’s forgotten what to do with them. Then it comes back to her, and she rests one hand on the girl’s head, wrapping her other arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” the girl says, only just barely loud enough for Diana to hear. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Someone starts clapping, and soon everyone else joins in.

Kara’s head jerks up, looking around at everyone, before her eyes lock onto Diana’s.

“Welcome back,” Diana says, and she can’t stop smiling. She’s close enough that she can see the tears welling up in Kara’s eyes, but Kara reaches up to wipe them away before they fall.

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 309_

“DOUBLE TROUBLE!” is the headline printed across CatCo Magazine the next day, over a photograph that James had taken of the two of them, flying through the air. He’d asked their permission to run it, of course.

Just below that main headline is the subheading, which declares, “Supergirl returns, and National City rejoices!”

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 343_

They’re watching a movie, though Diana hasn’t been fully paying attention for at least the last thirty minutes, so she’s not really sure what’s going on.

Instead, her focus is on Kara, who is sprawled along the couch, with her head resting on a pillow in Diana’s lap.

Her hand had been lying on Kara’s shoulder, but she moves it when Kara shifts her body to get more comfortable.

“You can put your hand back,” Kara whispers after a moment.

Without overthinking it, Diana moves her hand to Kara’s hair, running her fingers through the silky blonde strands.

“Mm, that feels nice,” Kara mumbles, purring out her best Crookshanks impression.

It was just a simple night, nothing all that special, but Diana finds that her heart feels so _full_ , it’s almost overwhelming. They remain like that for a while, even after Kara falls asleep and the movie ends.

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 425_

The drug that’s been spreading through National City’s black market seems to be growing more and more potent, if the strength of those who take it is anything to go by.

It started off as just a rumor—a drug that could make you unstoppable. But Kara and Diana had been noticing a sharp increase in the number of fights they’d had to break up, lately, and those fights had been noticeably more violent than usual.

Something strange was going on.

It was Winn who found out that the rumor was real; that someone was selling a drug with promises that it could turn you into a superhero, and that whatever the drug was, it increased both strength and violent inclinations.

And now it seems like either the drug is getting stronger, or maybe repeat usage has an exponentially increasing effect, or…

Whatever the case, Diana is in trouble.

The man on top of her is clearly high off his mind, but he also seems significantly _bigger_ than a normal person. She thinks, idly, that he might be an alien. And the force he’s exerting against her windpipe is enough to make her feel lightheaded. She tries to move, tries to shove him off of her, but she doesn’t have enough air, she can’t…

She manages to squeeze just two words out of her throat.

“Supergirl… Help…”

Diana has barely finished the second word before Kara comes flying in, barreling into the man’s side with a cry of anger and enough force to send him airborne. He crashes headfirst into a concrete wall and falls to the ground, unconscious.

Diana is able to sit up, gasping for breath, as Kara skids to a stop and then rushes to Diana’s side. Kara crouches down beside her, with her hands hovering over Diana’s body, as though she’s afraid to touch her.

“Are you okay?” Kara demands, sounding panicked. “What happened? Who was that guy? Can you breathe? Did he _hurt_ you?”

“I’m all right,” Diana manages, although her voice comes out sounding hoarse.

“Are you sure? Are you…?”

Kara looks like she’s about to have a breakdown, and Diana lifts a hand to cup Kara’s cheek. Kara closes her eyes at the contact and leans into Diana’s hand.

“I am all right,” Diana repeats. “Thanks to you.”

“You scared me, you…”

Kara’s voice breaks, and she can’t continue for a moment.

“Shh,” Diana soothes. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You’re really okay?” Kara asks, opening her eyes again. Her gaze sweeps up and down Diana’s body, looking for evidence of anything wrong.

“I’m really okay,” Diana confirms and swipes her thumb along Kara’s cheekbone. Her throat burns and her body aches, but Kara doesn’t need to know that right now.

“I—” Kara starts but doesn’t finish. Her eyes dart frantically around Diana’s face, then bounce back and forth between her eyes and her lips, and—

And then Kara leans forward and kisses Diana for a second time.

With her free hand, Diana has to reach for Kara’s suit to hold herself steady, as Kara wraps her own arms around Diana’s back.

And well, Diana’s not going to waste this opportunity, like last time.

She kisses Kara back, with firm intent, her lips sliding against Kara’s again, and again.

Of course, luck would have it that Diana’s breathing isn’t quite back to normal yet, and she has to break away for air sooner than she’d like.

But she maintains her hold on the front of Kara’s suit, keeping her close. Kara doesn’t seem inclined to move either.

“Are you going to fly away again?” Diana asks.

Kara shakes her head and swears, “No, not this time. I promise.”

Then she angles her head to kiss the open palm of Diana’s hand, before she leans in once more to bring her lips back to Diana’s.

.

_Days since Kara kissed Diana: 0_

There’s a large picture of them kissing on the front page of the National City Post.

The headline: “SUPER-PALS?”

* * *

The words feel strange in her mouth. All different angles and accents and sounds she’s never put together before.

Kara stares at her, eyes wide and face pale. Her mouth opens and closes, but no words seem to come out.

It takes effort for Diana not to fidget in the face of this reaction.

“Did I…?” She frowns, concerned. “Did I say it wrong?”

Kara shakes her head rapidly back and forth, but she otherwise just continues to gawk at Diana.

“Kara, are you all right?”

Diana takes a step forward and puts her hand on Kara’s shoulder.

The contact seems to snap Kara out of her daze.

She blinks and shakes her head.

“Say it again.”

Kara’s voice is a mere whisper.

So Diana takes a deep breath and, now even more nervous than when she’d said them the first time, speaks the words again.

The phrase itself is nothing special.

_Welcome home, Kara Zor-El._

But oh, the smile that lights up Kara’s face.

Diana’s heart pounds at the sight of it.

“How…? When did you…?” Kara interrupts herself to laugh, sounding near-hysterical. “Kal didn’t teach you. You don’t… Not his accent…”

She can’t seem to finish any particular sentence, so she finally resorts to simply asking, “ _How?_ ”

Diana feels almost embarrassed, now. She explains, “I have been taking some trips back to the fortress. Using the holograms there to teach me. All human languages come easily to me, with no effort at all, but… This one took me longer than I thought it would.”

Kara barely seems to process all of that.

But she’s taken in enough.

“You learned to speak _Kryptonian?_ ” she asks. The awe in her voice rings clear. “For _me?_ ”

Diana smiles, eyes shining.

She takes a moment to think over the words, then says:

_I would do anything for you._

A sound, some cross between a squeak and a whimper, emerges from Kara’s mouth.

Then Kara is jumping into her arms, and although Diana is quick enough to catch her reflexively, it’s so unexpected that they both topple over onto the floor.

Diana can only laugh, full to bursting with happiness, as Kara peppers her face with kisses and murmurs two words over and over again.

_Thank you_.

Kara finds Diana’s mouth with her own, kissing Diana hard, with a depth of feeling that takes Diana’s breath away.

They remain together on the floor for a long time.

* * *

_Days since their second kiss: 736_

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Kara asks.

Diana glances over her shoulder to watch Kara walk out onto the balcony of their hotel room, barefoot and with a sheet wrapped loosely around her.

She adds, eyes teasing, “Did I not tire you out enough, earlier?”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of watching Kara walk towards her.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” she says, eyes warm and heart full. “Have I told you that lately?”

“Oh, not within the last hour or so,” Kara grins.

They stand side by side at the balcony railing, leaning against each other and looking out over the city.

They’re in Florence, Italy, having finally decided to take a well-earned vacation together, after two years of trying to balance dating with saving the world.

So far their favorite part has been a tie between the art and the gelato.

“What were you doing?” Kara asks again after a while. Her tone is curious, but gentle.

“Just thinking,” Diana replies.

“About…?”

Diana takes a long time to respond.

Kara doesn’t press for answers. She just reaches an arm around Diana’s back, caressing the back of Diana’s neck in a show of silent support.

“I was thinking about a girl I once knew,” Diana eventually says. “A girl who used to spend a lot of her time looking up at the stars. And then I was thinking about how you came here from the stars, and how life has a funny way of working itself out, sometimes.”

She turns her head to find Kara already looking at her. She reaches up to Kara’s face, running her thumb along Kara’s lower lip, before she leans in to kiss Kara’s forehead and then replace her thumb with her mouth.

“I love you,” Diana whispers, soft but sure.

“I love you too,” Kara whispers back without hesitation. “Now come back to bed? You’re going to need your energy, tomorrow. I’ve got plans for you, Miss Prince.”

Diana laughs at Kara’s suggestive tone. “Plans, hm?”

“That’s right,” Kara confirms. “We’ve only tried three of the supposed top ten gelato shops in Florence, so there’s a lot of sweet goodness in your future.”

Diana grins and pokes Kara in the side.

She then turns serious again for a moment. She asks Kara, “Do you promise?”

It feels like something new, for the first time in a very long time, to be able to even imagine a future, one with someone else beside her. And Kara herself is the sweetest thing Diana could ask for.

Kara seems to understand that Diana isn’t just talking about gelato.

“I promise,” she says.

Diana kisses her again, and allows Kara to pull her back inside.


End file.
